Behind the Name
by Dorrica
Summary: After Puss receives a letter from home, Shrek and Donkey quickly learn more than they ever knew about their feline companion. /An origin story/
1. The Letter

**Title:** Behind the Name  
**Author:** Dorri  
**Summary:** After Puss receives a letter from home, Shrek and Donkey quickly learn more than they ever knew about their feline companion.  
**Rating:** T (for language and violence).  
**Disclaimer:** Puss In Boots and all other Shrek characters belong to Dreamworks Animation.

* * *

Chapter I:  
**The Letter**

Shrek curiously looked down at the infants snuggled together in their little cot, his face harboring a grin. His daughter looked up at him, her blue eyes full of curiosity as she reached her tiny arms out to him, cracking a wide smile of her own. Her brothers slept on peacefully, one of them with his thumb tucked securely in his mouth. "Well, look who's awake," Shrek commented as he reached in to pick up the infant. He already had a washcloth draped over his shoulder as a precaution, knowing all too well that spitting up was practically a guarantee, especially for an ogre baby.

Shrek placed the baby against his protected shoulder and headed out of the bedroom, glad that only one infant was awake at the moment. Just as he had a seat in his favorite recliner, the door opened and Fiona stepped inside, carrying the mail.

"Oh, we got another letter from Mom," Fiona stated with a smile as she glanced over each envelope, disregarding most of them as junk. "Puss! You got mail, too!" the ogress yelled as she waved a crumpled, tan-colored envelope in the air. The feline scampered into the room eagerly, snatching the envelope from his companion in a haste.

"¡Gracias!" he called over his shoulder as he disappeared again into the back room. Setting aside the rest of the mail, Fiona turned her attention to the envelope from her mother, sealed by the royal, golden seal.

"Hope there hasn't been a disaster with Artie," Shrek commented with a smirk as he bounced his giggling daughter on his knee. Fiona's smile grew as she read through the letter.

"Sounds like everything's going just fine, Sir Doubtsalot. Artie's had a rough start, but it sounds like he's getting the hang of things. And Mom's getting pretty anxious for us to visit. She's really wanting to see the kids again."

Shrek chuckled at this. "She _thinks _that, but I guarantee after spending enough time with 'em, she'll be hidin' up in a tree until we leave."

"Oh, come on, they aren't _that _much trouble."

At that moment, the infant ogre leaned forward and regurgitated every last bit of her breakfast all over the floor.

"Well…not always," Fiona stated with a sigh. "I'll get something to clean that up."

As Fiona retreated to the kitchen, the front door burst open, revealing the smiling face of Donkey.

"Speaking of trouble…" Shrek mumbled, getting to his feet.

"Oh, don't act like you ain't happy to see me, big guy!"

"Donkey, do you _have _to come over here every morning?" the ogre asked in annoyance as he grabbed a cloth to wipe his daughter's mouth.

"Oh, shut up. I ain't over here _every _morning. I'm only over here…what…four days a week? Last time I checked, there were _seven _days in a week," the donkey replied smugly.

"Donkey!" Shrek hissed, trying to keep from raising his voice out of fear of making his daughter cry, as well as waking his sleeping sons. "So far, we've had a surprisingly peaceful morning, but _you _are ruining that right now."

Donkey narrowed his eyes. "Well, you just a ball of sunshine this morning, ain't ya?"

"Don't pay any attention to him, Donkey," said Fiona as she walked past her friend, a wet rag in hand to clean up the mess on the floor. "We'd have to worry if he _didn't _act like a grouch."

Shrek rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"Well, I ain't stayin' long anyway. I was just here for Puss. Me, Gingy and Pinocchio are havin' a guy's day out. Prob'ly do the usual: go to a tournament first, and then we'll head over to the theatre for a play or two. I've been dyin' to get out and have some fun all week!"

Shrek managed to hold back his sigh of relief at hearing his friend say he was leaving. He jerked a thumb behind him. "I think he went back there," he said. Whistling, Donkey walked on past him to retrieve his feline friend. As he approached the partially opened curtains, Donkey opened his mouth to address the cat.

"No," he heard a voice mutter with heavy amounts of despair. He quickly shut his mouth and quietly approached the curtains, highly curious now. Looking through the opening, he spotted the feline just a few feet away, his back turned to him. His ears were lowered slightly and he appeared to be holding something, though Donkey couldn't make out what it was. Only when he heard the sound of paper crumpling did he realize that it must have been a letter.

The cat became a blur as he dropped the letter and went for his things, throwing on his feathered hat and boots, not even bothering with his sword. Donkey chose that moment to step into the room.

"Wassup, amigo?" he greeted, acting as though he hadn't witnessed a thing. Puss muttered a quick "Hello" but nothing more. He ran past Donkey, keeping one paw on the rim of his hat as he went.

"Wait, where're you goin'?" Donkey called to his friend as he turned and followed after him, though he received no response from the cat. He entered the living room just as Puss was opening the front door.

"Woah, woah, woah, Puss, where are you going in such a hurry?" asked Shrek.

"I…I just have something to take care of, señor. It's nothing."

Noticing the cat was not looking him in the eye, the ogre's brows furrowed in concern. "What is it?"

"I told you, it is nothing."

"But-"

Before the ogre could protest, Puss was already out the door and sprinting away, never once looking back. Shrek looked over towards his wife, who appeared to be just as dumbfounded as he was. He next looked down at Donkey. "Donkey, did he say anything to you?"

Donkey shook his head. "But right before he ran out, I saw him reading a letter. I bet that'll give us our answer," he said as he nodded for Shrek to follow. The ogre handed his daughter off to Fiona and followed Donkey into the bedroom, finding said letter partially balled up on the floor.

"I don't know, Donkey…If he wanted us to know, he would have told us."

Donkey ignored his friend as he smoothed the letter out with his hooves, bending his head down to read it. Shrek watched him with growing anticipation, his concern mounting when he noticed Donkey's expression change drastically as he read on.

"You really should read this," he said quietly, picking up the piece of paper between his teeth and handing it up to the ogre. He had to bring the tiny piece of paper extremely close to his face in order to read the even tinier words.

_Hola, mi hermano._

_I'm sorry it's taken me this long to write back, but you know how busy we keep. The money you sent us last month really helped us. Papá seems to be doing a lot better since his breakdown, but Víctor and I are still pretty worried about him. He doesn't talk much these days, and now he barely eats. And I'm really sorry to say that that is the good news. I hoped I would never have to deliver this message, but I'm afraid Mom has taken a turn for the worst. We thought she was doing better for a while, but I really think this is it. We don't know how long she has, but we think it's only a matter of days. I wish it was better news._

_I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this letter short. I need to take care of my chores. We all wish you the best._

_Your brother,_  
_Benito_

Shrek stared at the wrinkled letter for a long while in disbelief. "He was…actually being serious about all that? I thought he was just saying all that to get out of trouble," he said, reading over the letter again.

"I know, same here."

"This whole time…he's been supporting his family and we didn't even know it. Well…I mean…he _did _technically tell us, but…I don't know, we could have helped him."

Shrek continued to stare at the letter in awe, though he was no longer actually reading the tiny, smudged words that resided on the parchment. He eventually turned his attention to the trash bin.

"What're you doin'?" Donkey asked with a raised brow as he watched the ogre walk over and shove his hand down into the bin.

"Looking for the envelope….Ah!" Shrek pulled the slightly torn envelope from the bin, relieved to see that the return address was still legible. "Come on, we're going after him," the ogre said sternly as he walked out of the room. Donkey quickly followed after him, looking rather surprised.

"You really think we should?"

"Why not?"

"Well…I mean…it's clear he don't want us involved with his personal life."

"_You're_ the one who wanted to read the letter."

"What's going on?" Fiona asked worriedly as her husband reentered the living room. The larger ogre only sighed in response as he handed the letter to his wife to read. She took it with a bit of confusion and hastily read over it. "Oh, no," she said after a few moments, her expression becoming remorseful. She looked up at her husband. "Did you say you were going after him?"

"Well…" Shrek looked from his wife to Donkey, now beginning to question if it really _was_ a good idea to go after the feline.

"I think you should," Fiona stated firmly.

The male heaved another sigh. "Well, I _want _to, but…"

"He needs his friends, even if he thinks he doesn't," Fiona urged. Donkey finally found himself agreeing, as did Shrek.

"Will you be okay with the kids?"

"I'll be fine. Hopefully they'll keep sleeping for most of the day…if I'm lucky."

Shrek smirked. "I wouldn't bet on it."

"I should really tell Dragon where I'm going. Who knows how long we're gonna be gone?"

Fiona smiled. "Don't worry, if your family comes by, I'll be sure to tell them what's going on. I'm sure Dragon will understand."

Donkey smiled. "And…if the guys come by looking for me-"

"I'll tell them, too."

Shrek held up the envelope to look over the address again. "Let's get going, Donkey." The ogre turned and planted a quick kiss to his wife's lips. "I'll try to get back as soon as I can."

Fiona followed the two males to the door, giving a short wave and a faint smile as they retreated from the swamp. Not long after they disappeared through the forest, there was a loud cry from the bedroom, forcing Fiona's shoulders to slump as a sigh escaped her. "You have really bad timing, sweetie."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I have to say that I'm rather…shocked. I mean, Puss is such an awesome character and yet there aren't many stories that center around him. Most of the stories that do focus on him aren't very good, and the very few that _are _good haven't been updated in years (watch me do the same thing). It seems like everyone is obsessed with Artie. Meh, the kid's okay, but I'm afraid my love is for Puss XD.

Now, I'm pretty sure Puss was just pulling that story about his poor family out of his ass in order to _save _his ass. After all, Puss is well-known for his trickery and deceit. Hehe, ain't he a stinker? But there's always been that question in the back of my mind - what if it _wasn't _a lie? I always thought it'd make for an interesting story. In fact, after I first saw the movie, I actually wanted to take the idea and make it into a one-shot, but I never got around to doing it. But then after recently watching Shrek 2, the idea returned...and really branched out and took on a life of its own. And I'm glad I tackled this idea four years after seeing the movie since my writing has improved vastly since then. My writing was still very noobish back in 2004 and 2005. Not that it's spectacular now lol, but it's better.

Also, I apologize for the first chapter being so short. Normally my chapters are never under 3,000 words, but I typed the first 20,000 words of this story before deciding to publish it, so when I went back to start splitting the story into chapters, it was hard for me to determine the best cut-off place for chapter 1. This was the best cut-off place, I'm afraid. Hopefully this will be the shortest chapter.

Even though the first 20,000 words are complete, updates won't be daily, as I want to give myself time to get more of the story typed up, as well as give people time to read the story and review. I don't want to scare people off with fast updates, and I'd like to get an idea of whether or not people are going to enjoy this story. I swear it's always so hard for me to publish a brand new story. It takes me the longest time to finally click that "Submit" button, especially if it's for a new fandom. I'm always terrified people are going to hate what I write D:

Self-esteem. I has none.


	2. Reunion

Chapter II:  
**Reunion**

Puss slowly came to a halt upon the dirt path he had been following for hours, uncertainty setting in. Looking onward, his gaze followed the path as it extended up a hill, and just beyond that hill he knew he would find the little white cottage that had once been his home. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it only seemed to get bigger. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears drowned out all other natural sounds that surrounded him.

_You can do this. This is your family, after all. _

Taking a deep breath, the cat slowly walked forward, each step making his heart creep more and more into his throat. Coming over the hill, his pale green eyes gazed upon the tiny cottage. Taking a moment to look around, he saw that nothing had changed about it, nor its surroundings. Off to the left, he spotted the white, picket fence, though he did notice that a lot of the paint had peeled. The red barn that he remembered being a vibrant, fiery red as a kitten was now slightly discolored, appearing to be more brown than red. Of course even before he left, it had already been showing the results of its long time exposure to the elements.

But despite the cosmetic imperfections, it was still a beautiful sight to behold.

The feline stood atop that hill for the longest time, his eyes roaming over each memorable sight again and again. He always knew he would return to his home sooner or later, but he had always hoped it would never be under these circumstances. He found himself frozen where he stood again, fearing what awaited him inside that cottage. It wasn't just the fear of seeing his mother lying in a bed, unable to move that made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure how his brother, Víctor or his father would react when they saw him. He was certain it would be anything but positive. He stared down at his boots, feeling like the biggest coward who ever walked the earth.

The feline lifted his head sharply as he heard the front door swing open. He watched as a cream-colored cat emerged from the cottage, his gaze downcast as he approached the cobblestone well that sat off a few feet from the cottage. He lowered the bucket into the well, never once bothering to look up. Puss could only stare at the cat with a joyous gaze. He parted his lips as he was overcome with a desperate need to call out to the other cat, but he could not find his voice. Only when he saw the feline prepare to go back inside did he finally manage to force words to leave his tongue.

"Beni!" he yelled, instantly catching the other cat's attention. He turned sharply, his quick exertions causing a bit of water to slosh out of the bucket he clutched tightly against his chest. The cat's brown eyes widened instantly the moment he spotted Puss atop the hill, and the bucket slipped from his grasp, hitting the ground and spilling its contents at his feet.

"Ciro!" he cried with sheer joy, taking off in a mad dash to meet the red cat, who was now running to meet him as well. They met each other in a crushing embrace, the sheer force of which knocked Puss' hat from his head. "Hermano! Mi hermano!" the younger cat cried happily, fighting back tears.

Puss thought for certain he would suffocate if the other cat tightened his hold even the slightest bit more. Nonetheless, he clapped his back and pulled away, beaming at his little brother.

"I…I didn't know you were going to come," the lighter cat said, still clearly overwhelmed by his brother's presence. Puss bent down to pick up his fallen hat, dusting it off before placing it back atop his head again.

"Of course I came. It's our mother, Benito."

Benito nodded solemnly, looking towards the ground.

"How is she?" Puss asked softly. As his brother lifted his gaze to meet his again, he didn't need any sort of vocal response; he could see in his eyes that the news wasn't good, though he didn't expect it to be.

"We…" Benito swallowed. "We don't think she's going to make it through the night." He let out a shaky breath, and Puss could see that he was trying his hardest not to cry. "It kills me to look at her, Ciro." The younger cat turned away for a moment. "I don't think I can handle this. And Papi…Papi hardly says a word. It's _killing _him, Ciro!"

Puss suddenly felt a great deal of self-loathing for having not been there all this time, a feeling which had always lingered in the back of his mind ever since he first departed from his home, but now that feeling had intensified beyond measure.

Benito's voice broke the uncomfortable silence. "We should probably get inside. I know Mamá would love to see you." The other cat started to turn but stopped abruptly, his eyes looking on past his brother. Furrowing his brows, Puss turned to follow his brother's gaze and quickly, his eyes were just as wide as his.

"¡Oh, Dios mío!" Benito shouted, taking a step back. Puss quickly slapped a paw over his mouth.

"Shush," he scolded. "It's all right, they mean us no harm." Puss turned again to glare at the approaching ogre and donkey. As the younger cat tried to muffle a response, Puss quickly removed his paw to allow him to speak.

"Is…Is that the ogre you wrote about in your letters?"

"Sí."

"Oh," replied Benito, sounding a bit relieved at hearing this, though he still couldn't help but stare at the ogre with wide eyes. He had never seen one in person before, only heard the stories.

"I can't believe they followed me," Puss growled under his breath as he went to meet his approaching friends. Seeing the displeasured look on the cat's face, both Donkey and Shrek's smiles instantly faded. "What are you doing here?" the cat asked the two in a demanding tone.

"We know what's goin' on," replied Shrek. "Or…I mean…we know you told us before, but we never realized you were being _serious_, Puss." Shrek's tone was now etched with sympathy. "We just wanted to help."

"But…I never even told you where I was going or what had happened," Puss replied, now more confused than angered by the ogre's presence.

"Yeah, well…ugh…we kind of read your letter," Donkey chimed in nervously. The cat's anger quickly returned, which was no surprise to Donkey.

"You had no right to do that!" the feline yelled, pointing a finger at his talkative friend.

"Puss, we just didn't understand why you ran out of there in such a hurry. We knew something was up," Shrek tried to reason, his brows knitting together in confusion as he noticed Puss looking over his shoulder again and again, seeming nervous about something. He shifted his gaze towards the lighter-colored cat as he saw him approach, looking a bit fearful.

"I ain't gonna hurt ya," said the ogre, a bit of annoyance in his tone at seeing the cat's fear.

"You his brother?" asked Donkey, cracking a smile.

The cat looked towards the donkey, only just now acknowledging that he was even there. "Oh…ugh, yes. Benito," he said.

"Donkey," the donkey introduced himself, ignoring Puss' obvious agitation.

"Ugh…Shrek," said the ogre, half-heartedly waving a hand at the younger cat. Puss rolled his eyes.

"Great. Now that you all know each other, you can leave now."

"Oh, c'mon, Puss!" Donkey protested. "We're your _friends!_"

"Look, both of you need to leave!" the cat ordered threateningly, pointing a finger in the direction which the ogre and donkey had journeyed from.

"Puss…"

"Leave, I said! I do not need you here! I don't need your help!"

A twinge of hurt crossed the ogre's face, but he managed to resist his usual instinct to protest and did not respond this time, not wanting to agitate his friend anymore than he already had. He simply turned and slowly started making his way along the dirt path, back in the direction he had come. Donkey stood staring after him for a few moments, feeling that he should protest but quickly decided against it. He followed after his friend, ears lowered.

Sighing, Puss turned and started making his way towards the cottage, more guilt accumulating atop his already heavily burdened shoulders.

"They were just trying to help," said Benito as he came to walk beside his brother.

"Beni, you know just as well as I do why he can't be here," said Puss sternly, glancing at his younger sibling out of the corner of his eye.

"Papi…I know."

The two felines slowly entered the cottage, Benito leading the way. Puss couldn't help but feel like he was walking to his own execution.

0ooooooo0

Shrek came to an abrupt halt at the top of the hill, causing Donkey to bump into him.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" he asked, walking around to the front to glance up at his friend. Shrek simply shook his head and started heading back in the direction of the cottage. "Shrek! What are you doin', man? Puss doesn't want us around! You really wanna tick him off even more?"

Ignoring the donkey, Shrek walked back towards the cottage with quick strides, Donkey trotting along beside him, highly confused now. They walked around the cottage and towards the back where they found a single window. Shrek took notice of the cobblestone pathway, but didn't bother to follow it to see where it led. He had a seat by the window, hoping his keen hearing may be able to pick up voices from inside. Leaning back against the wall, he noted with amusement that even in a sitting position, his head still nearly touched the red-tiled roof, but he had to remind himself that this cottage _did _house cats, not humans.

"Shrek," Donkey hissed, walking to the opposite side of the window, making sure to keep his head lowered as he walked under it. "What are we doin'? This is crazy."

"I'm just curious," the ogre replied, not really sure himself why he was trying to find out what was going on inside. He knew he shouldn't be doing this.

"You just can't stay out of people's business, can you? C'mon, Shrek, shouldn't we respect his privacy? Pssh, listen to me. _I'm_ the one that read that letter."

"Donkey, just be quiet for two minutes. Can you even do that?"

"But we-"

"Look, I don't know, alright? I don't know what I'm doing. I just…can't leave."

0ooooooo0

Puss slowly made his way down the hallway, passing the kitchen, then next his bedroom before finally coming to his parents' bedroom at the other end of the cottage, where just beyond that door he knew he would find his mother, weak and frail from her illness. Placing one paw on the door, he took a deep breath and slowly pushed it open.

Three pairs of eyes suddenly looked his way, some with looks of joy and others surprise. Puss removed his hat from his head, holding it against his chest.

"Ciro," his mother greeted with a happy sigh. The weakness in her tone caused Puss' heart to wince. His father and brother slowly stood and started heading for the door to give Puss some time with his mother. His father only glanced at him briefly as he walked by, his expression rather hard for Puss to read. Víctor's, however, wasn't. Puss could no doubt sense a bit of hostility in his tawny eyes as he walked past, and he was almost certain he felt the room get a little colder the moment he walked by. Puss inwardly sighed, fearing his relationship with his brother was even more damaged than it had been when he first left home.

Puss slowly walked into the room, resting his hat on the foot of the bed. "My baby," he heard his mother say quietly. She forced as much joy into her words as her weakened voice would allow.

Puss forced a smile of his own. "Hola, Mamá," he said quietly, finding it hard to look at the other feline out of fear of what he'd see. He couldn't bear the sight of his mother lying in a bed, unable to move.

"Oh, come on, you can look at your mother."

Puss finally looked up, though he quickly wanted to look away. But despite his mother's weakened state, her brown eyes still held the fire they always did. She held out a paw to him, and he slowly reached over to take it. "Beautiful Ciro," she said with obvious pride. "Seeing your face again was not something I thought I'd live to see."

Those words clamped onto Puss' heart tightly, bringing his self-hate to a whole new level. He wrenched his paw out of his mother's and turned on his heels. "I should have come sooner," he said angrily, walking over to shut the door. His mother looked at him sadly, her paw still hovering in the air for a moment before she laid it at her side.

"Mijo, surely you just got the letter recently? How could you have known?"

"That's not what I mean!"

The female's smile slowly faded as she took note of her son's quivering lip.

"You've been sick for a year! I should have returned months ago!" he said. He paced the floor at the foot of his mother's bed, his tail swishing from side to side in agitation. Looking over towards the window, he scowled. "Why are the curtains drawn?! You should be able to see out! And the window should be open, too! You need fresh air!" he yelled before running over and throwing open the curtains, nearly ripping them from their rod. Undoing the latch, he let the window swing out, letting in the fresh scent of grass and flowers.

"Please, calm yourself, mijo."

Puss wiped his eyes. "There was no reason for me to not be here. I don't live _that _far away."

His mother shook her head. "Ciro, did Víctor say anything to you?"

"Víctor has a right to be angry, Mom! I should have been at your side every day, supporting you!"

"Ciro, you silence yourself right now!" his mother scolded. "Now you sit down."

Puss did as his mother asked, or demanded rather, and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the wall.

"Darling, please stop torturing yourself. There's no reason for it. From the day you left home up until this very moment you have journeyed all across the country to find money to help us. You sent us every last shilling you earned from working at a pub. Mijo, you have _never _stopped supporting us."

Puss shook his head. "I'm sure Papi was disgusted by that. He certainly didn't teach me everything he knows only for me to end up working in a pub."

"Disgusted? By what? Working an honest job to earn money for your family? No, mijo, he most certainly was _not. _Ciro, you weren't just seeking money for yourself, you were helping your entire family by any means necessary."

Puss felt a bit of relief at hearing these words. He had never known how his father may have reacted had he found out his son was working at a pub of all places, but his desperation for money had reached beyond comprehension, and humans always seemed to have qualms about giving jobs to animals, thus making other possible fields of work downright impossible.

"And besides, if you had been here, who would we have had to write us all those exciting letters about your adventures? That was something I always looked forward to week after week. They never disappointed me. If you weren't battling knights, you were battling ogres…and you even _befriended _an ogre."

Puss allowed a small smile to grace his features.

"Benito idolizes you. Every time we got a new letter, he'd have to go and brag to everyone about how his big brother was fighting in one battle right after another."

Puss couldn't help but feel that that idolization wasn't deserved.

"Though I have to say…your letters may have been exciting, but they _did _scare me. And I also wasn't too thrilled to hear that you had been arrested."

Puss looked to his mother with a sheepish grin. "What did Papá have to say about that?"

"Oh, _he _got a kick out of it. But that's just the way your father is," the female commented with clear annoyance, rolling her eyes. "But this was why I was never a big fan of this tradition, Ciro. There are too many risks involved, and I constantly worried about you, which was why I was actually a bit relieved to hear you had taken a job."

Not getting a response, the female looked back to her son, seeing that his face had fallen again, and he appeared to be deep in thought.

"And about Víctor…don't let anything he says get under your skin, mijo. He just doesn't understand. You have to understand that this has been very hard for him."

"I know, Mom," Puss replied with a single nod.

"You have _no _reason to feel any amount of guilt. You've taken on so many responsibilities in your life. You've done more for us than a parent could possibly expect from their child, Ciro. So stop blaming yourself."

Puss turned and smiled at his mother, though despite her words, the guilt still lingered there, but he was certainly not about to cause her anymore mental stress by protesting her reassuring words. He stood up and moved a bit closer to her, taking her paw in his again.

"And…" she started, smiling up at her son, "what's important is you're here now."

Suddenly, the female turned her head and began coughing violently. Puss quickly leapt to his feet and ran around to the other side of the bed, quickly snatching the glass of water that sat on the small table. Slipping his paw behind his mother's neck, he lifted her head up and put the glass to her lips. She was only able to take in a bit of the liquid before she was coughing again. Puss could only watch helplessly, feeling utterly useless. Once the ordeal seemed to have passed, his mother patted him reassuringly on the arm.

Puss sat down again, hoping he wouldn't have to see his mother go through another agonizing ordeal like that again. He looked at her with surprise when he noticed her forcing herself into a sitting position.

"Mamá, don't," he said quickly as he put a paw on her shoulder, but she gently pushed it away.

"I'm fine."

The female reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace that hung there. "I gave Benito my fan, and Victor my jewelry box. Odd things to give to boys, I know, but I wanted you all to have something." She held out the necklace to Puss. "And for you, I want you to take this."

Puss slowly reached out his trembling paw and grasped the necklace. "Thank you." He closed his paw tightly around the pendant, resting it in his lap. His mother sighed when she noticed his shoulders begin to shake.

"Please, mijo, I don't want to see you cry."

Puss shook his head, wiping his eyes. "This isn't fair," he said as he leaned his head against his mother's chest. As he felt his mother's paw rest itself on top of his head, he felt like a kitten again, seeking his mother's comfort. He closed his eyes, pretending everything he knew now was no more: his mother was not ill, there were no responsibilities, no traditions to carry, and he was an innocent child in his mother's warm embrace. For a brief moment he managed to fool himself into believing he was living in a flashback. The only thing he acknowledged at that moment was the gentle caress of his mother's paw and the quiet beat of her heart.

_Thump, thump._

It was oddly soothing.

_Thump, thump._

It could easily put him to sleep just as easily as any lullaby could.

_Thump, thump._

He truly didn't know where he was anymore.

……_Thump._

And then the beatings stopped.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I really didn't get much more added to this story between updates. I got about a thousand words added, but that was about it. I was really hoping to get at least 3,000 words added to it, but I have another story that has been due to be updated for a long time, and I've tried focusing on getting the next chapter complete these last couple of days, so my focus has been split between this story and that one. I want to try and update the other story tomorrow, which will then leave room for me to focus on this story for a while.

Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I really wasn't expecting to even get five since this doesn't seem to be a fandom that gets a lot of reviews. But I was very happy for what I did get, and I hope to get more!


	3. Conflictions

Chapter III:  
**Conflictions**

No longer hearing the sound of his mother's heartbeat echoing in his ears forced Puss to lift his head, thus causing the other feline's paw to slip and fall limp on her chest.

"Ma…"

The lump that presented itself in his throat made it impossible for him to even utter her name. _You won't see me cry now _he thought as he leaned forward again, burying his face in her chest as he wept, grasping her paw tightly. He didn't know how long he mourned at her bedside, but the next thing he knew was that he felt someone gently touching him on the shoulder. He lifted his head and partially glanced over his shoulder, his tear-flooded eyes making it a bit difficult for him to discern who was standing directly behind him, but he hardly cared. At that point, he was finding it difficult to breathe. He had to get away from there; he needed fresh air.

Brushing past his family, he snatched his hat from the bed and ran from the room, bolting towards the front door, desperate for open spaces.

0oooooooo0

Shrek and Donkey barely allowed themselves to breathe the moment they saw the window swing open. They pressed themselves as close as they could against the cottage, hoping no one stuck their head out the window, as they knew they'd be spotted.

As they listened to the words spoken from within the bedroom, their faces went through a variety of expressions. For the most part, they held expressions of remorse, but at times those expressions changed from shock, and then to a look of understanding. And once they heard their friend begin to weep, they knew the worst had happened. It wasn't long after this that they both heard the faint sound of a door slamming. Shrek inched his way across the ground and peeked his head around the corner of the cottage, catching sight of Puss running as fast as he could up and beyond the hill.

"C'mon, Donkey," Shrek whispered to his friend as he got to his feet and dashed after the feline. Donkey followed closely behind, ducking as he walked past the window. Once they made it to the top of the hill, they instantly spotted Puss not far away, his arm draped across the trunk of a tree while he leaned his head against it, still crying, it seemed. It didn't take long for the feline to detect their presence.

"I thought I told you to leave," he said hoarsely, placing his hat back on his head. Suddenly realizing the direction the ogre and donkey had approached him from, his eyes narrowed. "What were you doing?"

Both his friends glanced at each other a bit sheepishly. "Well…we…" Shrek sighed. "A'right…we were sort of…eavesdropping."

"Hisideanotmine," Donkey uttered quickly, pointing a hoof at the ogre.

"Well, I must say, señor, you are having quite the invasive day, aren't you? Reading my mail, spying on me during a _very _personal and private ordeal with my family…you must be exhausted."

The ogre winced at the venom in the feline's tone. "Look, Puss, you have every right to be angry, and I'm sorry." Shrek paused for a moment before adding, "And I'm really sorry about your mom."

"Yeah…me, too," Donkey added quietly.

"We just felt like we had to be here," the ogre added pleadingly. "We weren't trying to make things difficult. I don't even know what I was doing, really."

The cat sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "Look…I was not trying to be spiteful earlier when I told you to leave. It's just that…my father isn't exactly thrilled that I befriended an ogre, thus is the reason I did not want you around."

Shrek rolled his eyes. "Oh, boy, here we go again."

Donkey shook his head. "Man, you just don't have luck with _anyone's _folks. And this guy hasn't even _met_ ya yet."

"I know, it's a new record," the ogre drawled.

"Boss, please don't be angry with my father, either. If you knew him and knew of my family's history, you'd understand."

Shrek waved his hand dismissively. "Look, you don't have to explain anything, a'right? I've grown numb to it." Shrek shifted his weight from one leg to the other, awkwardness beginning to set in. "How…long were you working at a pub?"

Puss exhaled loudly.

"Sorry, sorry, I really shouldn't ask."

"No, it's fine. I started about two months ago."

Shrek shook his head, still trying to digest all he had learned in just a day's time. "You should have told us."

Puss shrugged. "Well…it really doesn't matter anymore."

"Ciro!" a voice called from the bottom of the hill, startling the trio. Puss looked on in the direction of the voice in alarm, knowing it was his father.

"Get behind that tree!" he ordered his friends, pointing to the massive oak tree just a few feet behind them.

"Puss, you don't need to hide us from your dad."

"Please, señor. I don't think I have the mental stamina right now to deal with any sort of confrontation. Just…please."

Shrek sighed, motioning for Donkey to follow him behind the tree. It wasn't even three seconds after they took cover that a black and white cat appeared at the top of the hill. Both Shrek and Donkey found themselves staring in awe at the cat's arm. At first glance, it looked as though the arm had been mauled, but as the cat came closer, Shrek was certain the injury was that of a serious burn. His own arm ached just looking at it, and it instantly had him racking his brain as to how he received such an injury.

"Ciro, come back inside. There's a lot we need to do."

Puss nodded, his attention on his boots. "I know…I just needed to get some fresh air."

The older cat turned and began heading back in the direction of the cottage without another word. "Papá…" Puss quietly called after his father, though he drew a blank at what else he wanted to say to him. His father's lack of reaction to seeing his son return home troubled him. He desperately yearned to hear a "It's good to see you" or "Welcome home." Anything, really.

Puss held his breath as he saw his father stop for a brief moment before then turning around and walking towards him, his expression still unreadable. He didn't know _what _to expect at that moment, but when his father reached out an arm and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a strong embrace, he sighed with relief and content. He wasn't sure if the embrace was comfort for their loss, or a gesture of welcoming, but frankly, he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around his father and returned the hug graciously.

"Come," the older cat said quietly as he finally pulled away, turning to head back to their home.

"I'll be in in a moment," replied Puss. Once his father was out of view, he looked towards the tree where his friends had taken cover. "All clear."

Shrek and Donkey stepped out from behind the tree. "Umm…what happened to his-" Donkey started, but Puss quickly shook his head, not wanting to discuss it. Donkey didn't say another word.

"Go home, señor. I can handle things here."

"Are you sure?"

Puss nodded, smiling gently. "I need to be with my family for a few days."

"Well…a'right, then. As long as you're sure?"

"I am. I appreciate your concern, though. I'm just sorry you came all this way for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing," Shrek replied, returning the smile, though it was faint. He touched the top of Donkey's head, nodding in the direction of the swamp. "C'mon, Donkey. We've got a long walk ahead of us."

Donkey lingered for a moment as Shrek went on ahead of him, glancing back and forth between the ogre and the feline with a look of confliction.

"Go on, amigo," said Puss, nodding towards the retreating ogre. With a sigh, Donkey finally turned and galloped after his friend, glancing sadly one last time over his shoulder at the cat.

After watching his friends retreating forms for a short while, Puss turned towards his home, though he didn't start walking back right away. He held out his paw, which still tightly clasped his mother's necklace. He held the object in his gaze for the longest time, images of his mother, alive and healthy, flashing through his mind. He ran a finger over the smooth, golden stone, as well as its elegant frame. He then grasped the chain in both paws and wrapped it around his neck, clasping it in place.

He was fully aware of how feminine it must have looked, but he truly didn't give a damn. If anyone hoped to remove that necklace from his neck, they'd have to kill him first.

With his precious memento secure, he made his way towards the cottage.

0ooooooo0

Shrek and Donkey were mostly silent as they followed the path back to the swamp. The sun had already set about an hour ago, and all they had as a source of light was the crescent moon. The ogre didn't fear robbers and ogre hunters enough to want to make camp, but he was still cautious enough to be aware of his surroundings.

Shrek replayed Puss' conversation with his mother again and again in his mind. Though he still felt a great sense of guilt at having invaded his privacy, he at least now had the answers to a lot of questions that had plagued the ogre's mind for some time. It all made sense now. Often when they were still living in Far Far Away and also after they returned to the swamp, Shrek would notice Puss disappear for extended periods of time, usually never giving any heads up of his absence and was always very vague about his whereabouts when he would finally return. He had always assumed that the cat was just going out and having fun by getting himself into all kinds of mischief, but clearly that wasn't the case at all.

All this time, if Puss was not helping Shrek on one of his quests or helping his family, he was instead going out in search of money to support _his_ family and risking his own life to do it. He couldn't even begin to fathom it. Now he understood why the cat often seemed so stressed.

Donkey finally broke the silence.

"I really _do _feel like an ass now," he said. Shrek raised a brow as he looked down at his friend.

"Why?"

"Well…whenever Puss said he had to leave, sometimes I'd manage to get him to tell me he was going to the pub, but then when I wanted to go with him, he wouldn't let me. I thought _he _was bein' the ass. But he just didn't want me to know he was going there to work. But I still don't get it."

"I guess it's a pride thing," Shrek replied with a shrug.

"What's there to be ashamed of?"

"I don't think it's shame, Donkey. I guess he knew that if we found out all the measures he was taking to earn money, he knew we'd want to help, and it was something he felt he had to do on his own. I can sort of understand that."

"Well _I _can't,"

"Well, clearly his family holds a high opinion of him, and I'm just takin' a stab in the dark here, but it seems like his father expects a lot from him, or Puss _feels _like he expects a lot from him, and he doesn't want to disappoint him. He wants to be able to handle the responsibility of looking out for his family and making his father proud. I don't know…I'm just trying to see it from his perspective."

Donkey shook his head, still not really grasping the logic.

"Maybe Puss will be a bit more open about everything when he comes back."

0ooooooo0

Fiona awoke to the gentle touch of someone's hand on her shoulder. She looked over his shoulder with sleepy eyes, seeing her husband standing over her, smiling. She pushed back the covers and sat up, extending her arms over her head in a stretch. "When did you get home?" she asked before yawning.

"Just a few minutes ago."

"Really? What time is it?"

"Almost four in the morning." Shrek rubbed the back of his head as he gazed at his wife guiltily. "Sorry…I really shouldn't have woke you."

"No, no, it's fine." The ogress yawned. "You must be exhausted."

"Naw, I'm a'right. But what about you? Were the kids a handful?"

Fiona smiled. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Shrek turned and walked over to the cot, looking over each infant snuggled together with a smile of content. He hoped he could maybe get in a few hours of sleep himself before they woke up. He sat down on the bed, kicking off his shoes.

"So, what happened? I really didn't expect you back this soon."

Shrek looked over his shoulder at his wife, who was looking back at him with a mix of concern and curiosity. The larger ogre sighed as he shook his head.

"Oh, no, what happened?" Fiona asked quickly, turning her body completely around to face him.

"Well…his mom died shortly after he got there."

Fiona covered her mouth as she gasped silently.

"Says he's gonna have to stay with his family fer a few days to take care of things."

"Well, of course," Fiona agreed. "I hope he's okay."

As Shrek removed his alligator-skinned vest and prepared to lean back into the pillows, he was halted by the loud wail of one of triplets, which quickly woke the remaining two within seconds. The larger ogre sighed as he got up to tend to the children.

"No, honey, I'll take care of them. You're exhausted," Fiona protested as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"No, no, you took care of them all night. I've got this."

"I said _I'll _take care of it," the ogress protested again in a bit firmer tone as she shoved her husband back onto the bed.

"A'right, easy there," Shrek replied with a grin. He briefly watched as Fiona picked up two of the crying infants, shushing them quietly as she held them against her chest. "Let me help," Shrek tried again as he stood up and picked up the third infant. He cradled the baby in both arms, rocking him slowly. Fiona didn't protest this time, seeing that handling three crying babies wasn't exactly easy.

"Why didn't you stay?" she asked, returning to the previous subject.

Shrek kept his gaze on the infant in his arms, who was starting to calm down now, thankfully. "Well, when we got there, Puss wasn't too thrilled to see us. He told us to leave."

"And you just left?"

"Well, I started to…but I ended up staying behind a bit longer. We hung around outside."

"I take it Puss found out?"

"Aye. But then he told to me his dad was the reason he didn't want me around."

"Let me guess, he doesn't like ogres?"

"You got it."

Fiona nodded, not seeming at all surprised by the answer. She looked down at the infants in her arms, certain they weren't going to go back to sleep any time soon. "They're hungry. We better give them their bottles."

0ooooooo0

It was all so surreal to him. Even as he helped his father and brothers lower the coffin into the ground, Puss still felt as though this was all in his head. He desperately hoped that at any moment he would wake up and find himself lounging comfortably on Shrek's recliner, or possibly even wake up and discover he had never left home to begin with, while also finding that his mother was a picture of health.

Oddly, the day was beautiful. The sun was shining and the sky seemed bluer than usual. It was the kind of weather none of them expected for a funeral, as it was typical to rain on such occasions.

Puss tightened his grip on the flowers in his paw, knowing he was probably choking the life right out of them. The flowers had been picked from her garden, which was where she spent most of her time when the weather was right. Puss noted that the garden was still as beautiful as he remembered it being when his mother was taking care of it and figured his brothers had most likely taken on the responsibility of tending to it.

Once the burial was complete, the flowers were then laid, Puss needing a bit of a nudge from his father to lay his. He could hear words being spoken around him, though it was all muffled nonsense to him. As far as he could tell, there was no one there anymore, and eventually it came to the point where he truly was alone. He soon found himself sitting in the soft grass, his legs crossed and hat in his lap. His eyes would shift from one direction to the other, not really acknowledging what he was looking at. The slowly shifting shadows didn't register with the cat, either, and soon enough, it was twilight. The off and on glow of the fire flies was already underway as nighttime approached, but Puss still did not move from his spot in the grass.

For just a moment, Puss drew his attention away from his mother's grave and his eyes roamed over two much smaller graves that sat just to the left of his mother's, the stones barely noticeable through the tall grass. Ever since he was a kitten, he had remarked the graves with curiosity and then later remorse. Now that his mother rested right next to them, the feeling it left in the pit of his stomach was difficult to determine. He knew one might look at it and see beauty and unity, but considering they all died long before their time, to Puss it was anything but.

Though Puss did not seem to take notice of his approach, Benito came to sit beside him, looking at him with concern. "Ciro, it's late. We'll be eating soon."

Puss closed his eyes for a moment as he slowly returned to reality. "What…what time is it?"

"It's almost eight o' clock. You've been out here for five hours."

"I have?"

Benito nodded, scooting closer to put an arm around his sibling. "I came out here earlier, but you didn't answer me when I spoke to you."

Puss slowly looked at his brother, looking a bit surprised. "Really? I…I don't remember."

Benito took his brother's arm and stood up, helping the older cat to his feet. "Come on," he said quietly, leading him to the back door. Once inside, they silently made their way to the kitchen, where their brother and father were preparing their meals.

Once everyone was settled at the table, they all took to eating their meals in silence. Puss found it unnerving. He was always used to excited conversations being shared at the dinner table, whether it was between his parents, him and his parents, or him and his brothers. Growing up, dinnertime was never a time of absolute silence. But though he found it uncomfortable, he knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to speak. What _could _he say? What could anyone say? Having a wholesome, lively discussion (if possible) didn't seem appropriate, given the circumstances that had brought on the silence.

Puss glanced at the end of the table where the empty chair resided, still finding it hard to believe that his mother no longer occupied it. He shifted his gaze to the opposite end of the table where his father sat, seeing that he held very little interest in the food on his plate, though he still forced himself to take a bite every minute or so. Puss next looked to Víctor, who was also looking his way, his eyes still holding their displeasure, much to Puss' dismay. He looked down at his half-eaten meal in despair, placing his free paw to his forehead in an attempt to hide his brother from view.

Benito observed the behavior between his two brothers carefully, sending Víctor a scowl of his own, while also trying to send his older sibling a look of reassurance. He knew he'd be having a talk with Víctor before the night was over.

"Beni, Víctor, if you two don't mind, I'd like to speak to Ciro alone for a moment."

And it looked like now was his chance.

The two brothers stood up, pushed their chairs in, and filed out of the kitchen without a word. Once their father heard the sound of the front door closing, he looked to his oldest son, who was still looking at his plate, the apprehension in his eyes very clear.

"I'm not about to scold you, son, if that's what you're thinking."

Puss finally looked up to meet his father's hard gaze. "Well…when I came home…you-"

"I know, mijo. I know it seems I've acted coldly towards you, but believe me, that was not my intent. This has all just really been hard for me to process."

Puss nodded in understanding. "Yes, Papá."

"I couldn't be more proud of you, and I know your mother already told you how proud she was of you."

His father suddenly frowned at the look of doubt on his son's face.

"I'm not a fool, Ciro," he said sternly. "I know there's friction right now between you and Víctor. Whatever he says, pay no mind to it. It is because of you that we've kept food on this table."

Silence fell over the two momentarily.

"I can have a word with him if you want."

"No, Papá," Puss replied quickly, snapping his head up to look at his father again. "It's between me and him. I am the one who needs to settle this with him…in my own way…in my own time."

His father nodded.

"I sent a letter to Aunt Nina yesterday. Living so far away, it'll probably be a few days before she gets it." The cat sighed, tapping his food with his fork. "I really should have sent a letter the moment Catalina's condition worsened. Whether she could have gotten here in time or not is beside the point. But anyway…I'm sure she and your cousins will try to make it over here as soon as they get the letter. My guess is they'll probably be here sometime next week, given the distance they have to travel. I know you don't remember them. You've only known them through letters. You were just a week old the last time your aunt saw you."

Puss sighed as he pushed his plate away. "I'm afraid I'll be leaving in the next day or two."

"You're not staying?"

"No, Dad. My friends are expecting me back in a few days."

"Ex_pecting_?" Puss' father replied with a hint of anger, cocking a brow.

"No, no, I mean I actually told them I'd be back in a few days."

The older cat responded with a "hmph" as he took a sip of his milk. Puss rolled his eyes as he let himself fall against the back of his chair. "I _knew _this was coming."

"Ciro, I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. I can see your disapproval written all over your face. I had hoped that maybe you had gotten over it by now, but clearly I was wrong. Well, go ahead, Father, say it! Tell me how I've dishonored the name "Puss In Boots" by befriending something as "wretched" and "evil" as ogres."

"Boy, do not sit there and put words in my mouth!"

Puss crossed his arms. "Fine. Then prove me wrong. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you have no problem with the fact that my best friends are ogres." Puss stared at his father with a hopeful gaze, eager to hear the words that he knew deep down would never be uttered from the older feline's mouth. At least not at that moment in time. "I don't know how I can get you to understand."

"I think _you_ are the one who is not understanding. Have you forgotten that ogres killed my father?"

Puss winced. "I know, Dad," he replied as gently as he could, his eyes softening. "But…I still don't believe it is justification for hatred of all ogres."

The older cat only sighed, shaking his head.

"For the love of Perrault, Papá, do you not remember how infuriated you were when I had to put up with the prejudices of humans?"

"This is different."

"How?!"

His father stared at him with a hard gaze but did not offer a rebuttal. He eventually looked down at his plate again, ears pinned in agitation. "Let's just drop it. This is not the time to discuss this," he finally said in a tone that Puss did not dare argue with.

"Fine."

Puss started to reach for his glass, but then his eyes fell on his father's scarred arm, which hung limp at his side. This didn't go unnoticed by the older cat. "Lovely, isn't it?" he asked dryly.

Puss quickly averted his gaze. "Sorry. Does it still hurt?"

"Not physically," his father replied with clear disdain.

After a short pause, Puss gathered his plate and stood from his chair, making his way over to the counter and setting it aside. He glanced back at his father, whose face was now resting in his paw. The younger cat could feel every ounce of anguish that seemed to be radiating from his father, which added to his own despair. Exhaling, he slowly walked up behind his father and gently placed his paws on his shoulders.

"Things will get better."

_Oh, that's genius, Ciro. Is that the best you can do?_

"I'm not so sure they will," his father replied quietly. "I always had hope that she would get better, but somehow I knew she wouldn't come out of it. When you watch someone die in front of you, you think that with time you'll come to accept it. They say people who know they are dying go through several stages…and the final stage is acceptance. I think the ones who watch those people die go through the same stages…but I'm afraid I never reached the stage of acceptance."

Puss squeezed his father's shoulders reassuringly, not sure what sort of words of comfort he could possibly offer to ease his despair.

"I thought I could. I thought that with time, it'd be easier to deal with. I thought I'd eventually get used to the idea of her not being here anymore. I don't know what I was thinking."

The older cat took a deep breath.

"Your mother was like no other. She was not what I was used to seeing in a female. My mother had always been submissive to my father, and if he raised his voice to her, she would always back down. But your mom…she didn't take any gripe from anyone…not even me. If I snapped at her, she snapped right back. She always made me think twice about what I was about to say."

"I know," Puss replied as a smile crossed his face, but that smile quickly left him when he felt his father's shoulders begin to tremble. Without thinking, he quickly leaned in and slinked his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

0ooooooo0

Benito's ears twitched every time a stone bounced off the cobble wall of the well before finally hitting the water below with a soft splash. He looked over to his brother, who had been throwing stone after stone into the well for several minutes, though a fair bit of them had missed.

"This has to end," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"If it annoys you so much, then go back inside," Victor growled, throwing another stone.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about."

Benito saw Víctor's fur raise slightly, but he wasn't about to heed the cat's physical warnings.

"You're killing him, Víctor. Losing Mom is hard enough on him, and he certainly doesn't need you acting like an asshole towards him right now."

Víctor spun around and flung the stone in his paw at the offending cat, who managed to dodge it just in the nick of time before it struck him in the face.

"We needed him here!" Víctor shouted angrily in his own defense. "He should have been here all this time!"

"He _had _to leave," Benito shot back, getting to his feet now. "Father urged it. He was carrying on the name. It was what he intended to do all along."

"I don't give a flying crap about the name! There are things more important than traditions, damn it!"

"You're right," a third voice interjected as the front door swung open. Puss stood in the doorway for a short moment, his attention entirely focused on Víctor. "Go inside, Beni," he said as he stepped down from the doorway and slowly made his way towards Victor, who now stood with his arms crossed and a challenging look in his narrowed eyes. Stepping out from the shadow cast by the cottage, Puss' eyes seemed to glow a neon green as the moonlight bathed his face. "Leave, Beni," he said more sternly, knowing his other sibling was still watching them. He heard him give a defeated sigh, which was followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Víctor turned away before Puss could even start the conversation. "Leave me alone," he said as he bent down to pick up another stone.

"Not until we settle things."

Growling, Víctor threw the stone at the well. Puss closed the distance between them, placing a paw on his shoulder. Víctor instantly wrenched himself out of the touch, turning sharply and stalking away.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you!"

Puss grit his teeth as he marched after his brother. "Come back here and face me!"

"Stay away from me!" Víctor called back over his shoulder, picking up his pace. Letting out a loud, frustrated yell, Puss broke out into a sprint, quickly catching up with his retreating bother and planting himself directly in his path. They both stared each other down for a few moments, teeth bared.

"Move," the younger cat spat dangerously.

"Make me," Puss responded with equal challenge. Before he could blink, he felt himself being roughly tackled to the ground.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Happy Halloween, everyone! Have fun trick or treating, or giving out candy, or just scaring the shit out of people tonight! :D Hope the weather doesn't suck.

Oh, and today's my last day as a twenty-one year old! I'm getting old WTF


	4. Back to the Swamp

Chapter IV:  
**Back to the Swamp**

The two cats rolled down the slight incline of the dirt path, grunting and yowling as their claws unsheathed and sought purchase in each other's flesh. They finally rolled to a stop, but the dispute did not end. The two brothers bit, clawed, and kicked at each other relentlessly, both of them eager to get the upper hand.

Being a bit taller and having a slightly heavier build than Puss, Víctor managed claim dominance first by pinning him down on his back, holding both his arms above his head as he glared down into his eyes. Snarling, Puss managed to wrench one arm free and take hold of his brother's wrist before he could reclaim his grip. He forced himself into a sitting position and threw all of his weight against his brother, pushing him onto _his_ back this time, though he still kept a firm hold on Puss' other arm. Once more, they rolled across the ground, dirt clinging to their fur. Eventually, Puss managed to get a hold of both of Víctor's arms and held them firmly behind his back, pushing him down onto his stomach and using his body weight to keep him immobilized.

"Enough!" he yelled, panting profusely. He stared down at his brother with pleading eyes, expecting him to shout a slew of insults and curses but instead he just looked on, drawing in quivering breaths. "What do you want from me, Víctor?"

Silence.

"What do you want me to say? What do you want me to _do_? How can I make this right?"

Puss released his grip on his brother's arms, pulling back to allow him room to sit up. "Do you want me to say I abandoned you? Will that make you happy? Will that make this right for you? Because I'll say it, Víctor. I'll say it right now! I'll scream it to the sky! I abandoned my family! There! Are you happy? I ran out on you and never looked back!"

Víctor was unresponsive as he stared at the ground.

"I can't take this, Víctor," said Puss, his voice beginning to crack. He took in a deep, shuddering breath as he tried to will away his tears, which had already started brimming. "Losing Mom is hard enough. I don't want to lose you, too."

Víctor finally looked his way, his tawny eyes glistening with tears of his own. "You don't understand," he stated calmly. "Benito and I have never had Papá's strength like you have."

Puss blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You've always been the strong one, Ciro. And when you left…I just didn't know how we'd be able to go on. Mom had already fallen ill, and Papá was drifting in and out of insanity. Damn it, it was always one thing after another! I just feared that if you weren't here, our family would fall apart. We were all relying on Papá to help keep us strong, but he was crumbling more and more every day, and it scared me to no end, Ciro! I thought that if he fell, we'd all fall with him!"

His brother's words left the older cat a bit flabbergasted for a moment. He moved closer to him, placing his paws firmly on his shoulders. "Mi hermano, you have always been strong. You and Beni both. You took such great care of Mamá…and Papi, too. You took on an enormous responsibility. I can't even say for sure that I would have been able to do what you did."

Víctor lowered his gaze. "And you were only out there risking your life in order to support us. I really _am _an asshole. I know you didn't abandon us, but I just-"

"Shut up, idiot," Puss replied as he pulled his brother into a tight embrace. He felt an overwhelming amount of peace when he felt Victor's arms wrap around his back, as he had gravely feared that his relationship with his brother had been severely damaged and would not be easily mended. "You're right, though…I should have come back sooner."

"No, no, forget what I said…I'm sorry."

Pulling out of the embrace, Puss looked seriously at his sibling. "I don't ever want things to have to get physical between us again, Víctor," he said sternly.

Víctor nodded in agreement, wiping his eyes. Puss' expression softened and he finally smiled. "Come on, let's go inside before Beni suspects we killed each other." Both cats got to their feet and dusted the dirt out of their fur before making their way back to the cottage.

0ooooooo0

Puss slowly stepped into his bedroom, an ignited oil lamb resting in both paws. The dark room instantly revealed itself in the warm glow of the flickering flame, bringing a smile to Puss' face. Having been so wrapped up in trying to process the loss of his mother, Puss really hadn't taken the time to appreciate seeing his old room again. He had to admit, it had been wonderful being able to sleep in his own bed again.

Setting the lamp down on the table by the bed, he took a moment to look around the room. The table and chairs still resided in the corner of the room, and the old, lace curtains still hung from their rod. The feline sat down on the bed, smiling at the familiar sound of the springs creaking under his weight. "That will never stop being annoying," he commented to himself, bouncing a couple of times.

"How did things go?"

Puss looked up to see Benito standing in the doorway.

"Everything's fine," he replied as he gestured for his brother to enter the bedroom. The cream-colored cat slowly stepped into the room and had a seat on the bed beside his sibling, glancing at him curiously.

"So…you two made peace?"

"I suppose."

"Well, you don't sound so sure."

Puss shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I still feel like I've done a lot damage to our relationship."

"Ciro, you have nothing to feel guilty for. How many times do you have to hear it before you'll believe it?"

Puss only sighed, looking away to stare at the wall, and then back down at his bed.

"Tell me, Beni…have you been sleeping in my room?"

Puss turned and smiled slyly at his brother, who looked away sheepishly. "Well…Dad's slept in here a few times, but yeah...I've been sleeping in here, too."

"I thought so. I noticed the bed was poorly made last night when I came in here. You never were one to properly make your bed."

Benito snorted. "I always hated that you got your own room."

"Well, I _am _the oldest," Puss replied in a playful "I'm better than you" tone. "No worries, though, mi hermano. I would have seized the opportunity, too." Puss allowed himself to fall back onto the bed. "I've missed this bed. It was nice to go to sleep and not have to worry about getting kicked."

"Kicked?"

Puss chuckled, folding his arms behind his head. "Well, anytime I stay the night with Shrek and Fiona, I usually sleep at the end of their bed, and sometimes they kick in their sleep. After I got kicked straight into the wall one night, I started sleeping in the recliner."

Benito grinned. "You're a regular house cat now, aren't you?"

"Bite your tongue, chico," Puss snapped, lifting his head up to glare at his brother.

"So…how are things going there, anyway? What's going on with the babies?

Puss shuddered. "I don't think my poor tail can take much more."

"Well, babies love to pull cats' tails. They'll probably let up by the time they're three."

Puss groaned. "I probably won't have a tail anymore by then," he said, chuckling. "You know, I had not planned on staying with Shrek. My plan was to leave after I had repaid my debt to him. But it didn't take me long to get attached to them. They had sort of become a…I guess you could say a familia away from familia. When we set out on our quest to find Arthur, I had convinced myself that I would definitely depart after we returned, but then when I found out the Princesa was pregnant, I knew I'd have to stay, at least until she delivered.

"I was a bit surprised to learn that Shrek didn't live terribly far from here. When we arrived at the swamp, I was all set to come home as soon as the babies were born."

"But you couldn't leave then, either," Benito stated. Puss shook his head.

"No, I couldn't. It felt like _I _had become a parent myself. I never wanted to venture too far from the swamp, as I always worried something might happen to them. There are still plenty of people out there who aren't too fond of ogres and would like nothing more than to see them dead."

Puss pushed himself up, glancing at his brother. "I just couldn't leave them."

Benito nodded in understanding, staring down at his paws. Suddenly, a sly grin crossed his face. "You have to tell me more about when you switched bodies with the donkey."

Puss shuddered at this. "Please, mi hermano, I'm _still _having nightmares over that," he replied, shaking his head. Benito only chuckled.

After another short moment of silence, the feline pushed himself up and got to his feet. He walked over to the window and pulled back the dusty curtains.

"What're you thinking about?"

"Mom…and how stupid I am."

Benito sighed. "And _why _are you stupid?"

Puss turned his attention away from the window and looked back at his brother. "I've been kicking myself for months." Puss shifted his gaze to the window again. "When I was helping Shrek back in Far Far Away…it dawned on me after the royal ball that there was a possibility that among all of the Fairy Godmother's vast stock of hexes and potions, there was bound to be some type of potion that contained healing properties. So…I went back to the factory in hopes of possibly being able to locate said potion. But once I arrived, I was shocked to find out that all the potions were gone."

"Gone? How?"

"I don't know. I don't know if someone broke in and stole the potions to sell on the black market…or if perhaps they were legally confiscated after word got around of the Fairy Godmother's death. But whatever the reason, I had missed my chance. And I was furious with myself because I had just been in there two days prior. Every last potion was right there at my fingertips. If I had just thought to, I could have at least tried to look. But I was even more furious with myself for having not even thought of it when I first came to Far Far Away. Mom might still be alive if I had just-"

"Stop."

Puss turned to look at his brother again. "What?"

"I said stop, Ciro! Does the bucket _ever _come up empty in your guilt well? You're going to destroy your mental health if you keep laying all this blame on yourself."

"But-"

"No! If Mom _were _here right now, she'd smack you!"

Benito stood up from the bed and made his way towards the door, placing his paw on the doorknob as he turned to look at his sibling one last time. "Please, Ciro, just get some sleep. You look like you're about to fall over." The younger cat smiled gently before finally exiting the room, shutting the door quietly on his way out.

After shutting the curtains, Puss went over and sat back down on his bed, kicking off his boots. He let himself fall back onto the bed, burying his face into his pillow. He quickly realized just how tired he really was. The mental stress, added on with the fact that he hadn't slept no more than two hours the previous night, had completely drained him. It was an effort just for him to reach over and distinguish the flame in the oil lamp. He let his arm fall limp over the side of the bed and closed his eyes. It wasn't even five minutes before he fell into a much needed deep sleep.

0ooooooo0

After having dressed himself, Puss slowly made his way out of his bedroom and down the hall, finding his brothers' bedroom at the other end. Leaning in the doorway, he spotted Víctor in the process of making his bed, though Benito was absent.

"Hey," he greeted. Victor looked over his shoulder, returning the greeting as he slid down the ladder. "Beni always had the top bunk. How did you get it?" Puss asked as he stepped into the bedroom.

Víctor smirked. "You'd be surprised what you can get when you threaten to hogtie a person and shove them in a trunk."

"You always were a persuasive one."

Víctor looked over his older sibling, his smile fading. "I see you're ready to go," he said as he took a swat at the yellow feather secured in Puss' hat.

"Well, I promised my friends I'd be back in a few days."

"And what about us? Are they more important than us?"

"Ay caramba," Puss muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, Víctor, let's not go through this again. I don't want us to always have to throw a punch at each other every time I come home. I'll come back, don't worry."

"When?"

"I…don't know. Soon."

Víctor snorted as he turned away. "That's just another way of saying 'never'."

Puss grabbed Víctor by the shoulder roughly and forced him to turn back around. "I _will _come back! That is a promise, and I never break my promises."

As Puss shifted his gaze, he took notice of the wooden jewelry box sitting on the table under the bedroom window. "Mom's jewelry box," he said as he went over and gently touched the box with his paw.

"She didn't have a lot of jewelry," Víctor remarked. "Other than that," he added as he nodded to the pendant around Puss' neck.

"She couldn't afford it," Puss replied. Without thinking, he lifted the lid of the box, finding folded pieces of paper crammed inside. "What are these?" he asked as he pulled a couple of them out. Víctor looked to the floor as Puss worked to unfold one of them. After briefly skimming over it, he looked over at his younger sibling. "These are my letters."

"Yeah," Víctor replied, though it was barely audible. "I'd usually read them every night before going to sleep."

"I didn't even know you were reading them." Puss glanced back inside the box, noticing two more letters. He turned back to Víctor, appearing a bit hurt. "You never wrote me back."

Víctor kept his gaze on the floor, unresponsive.

"But then again…I guess I couldn't expect to hear from you when all you could think of was my throat in your paws. But still…getting a letter, telling me how much you wanted to strangle me would have been better than no letter at all. That still says you care, even if you _are _telling me off."

Víctor sighed. "I'm sorry, all right?"

Puss returned the letters to the jewelry box and shut the lid. Looking outside, he saw that it was getting lighter as the sun slowly ascended into the sky. "I should go." Turning, he started to leave the room but nearly collided with Benito.

"Buenos días," he greeted as he took a step back. "Are you leaving already?"

"Yes. It's better that I get an early start. Where's Papá?"

"In the kitchen."

Puss brushed past his brother, making his way for the kitchen. He spotted the cat at the head of the table, his back turned to him. Puss walked around to the side of the table so that he was able to speak to the older cat directly. "Papá, I'm leaving."

His father looked his way, his green eyes expressing a hint of bitterness. "Can't wait to get out of here, huh?"

"Geez, Papi, give him a break," Benito interjected.

"¡Cállate!" his father shouted, looking over his shoulder to glare at the cream-colored cat. Sneering, Benito left the kitchen, muttering incoherently under his breath.

"Dad, please…I've taken grief from Víctor already," said Puss.

"I just don't think you should leave so soon."

"For goodness sake, I'm not leaving forever."

The black and white cat shook his head, resting his chin on top of his laced paws. He nodded towards an empty chair. "You should eat something first."

"No, I'm fine."

His father reached over and took a piece of bacon from a plate. "Then just take it to go," he said, holding it out to his son.

Puss sighed. "All right," he replied, taking the bacon strip. "Can you walk me out?"

His father nodded and slowly rose to his feet. He followed Puss out of the kitchen, calling for Víctor and Benito to come and tell their brother goodbye. Benito hugged Puss first.

"I would tell you to stay out of trouble, but then you wouldn't be doing your job, would you?" he said with a laugh. Puss only grinned, patting the younger cat's back. As Benito pulled away, Victor came over to wrap his arms around him.

"You _better _come back," he growled into his ear. Puss sighed and tightened his embrace reassuringly.

"I will."

Víctor pulled back, his paws resting on Puss' shoulders. "Hasta luego, jerk face," he said, punching Puss playfully in the arm. Puss smiled again, finally looking over to his father.

The older cat slowly approached his son, wrapping one arm around him and pulling him towards him. "Please come back soon," he whispered. Pulling back, he kissed the top of his son's head, patting his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I will," said Puss as he opened the door.

0ooooooo0

After the babies had been fed, burped, and then finally changed, Shrek and Fiona were able to tend to themselves. Fiona got started on cooking the breakfast while Shrek tucked in the triplets, who had already fallen asleep again now that they had been fed. As he made his way back out to see if his wife needed any help, the front door slowly opened.

Donkey stuck his head through the door curiously. "Hey," he greeted. Not seeing him burst through the door, shouting greetings at the top of his lungs was not something Shrek or Fiona were accustomed to seeing.

"Good morning, Donkey," Fiona returned the greeting with a smile.

"Hey," Shrek added. He could see the hopeful glint in Donkey's eye and sighed. "He's not back yet, Donkey."

Donkey's ears lowered and he looked to the floor in disappointment, sighing.

"Seems like he's been gone for months."

"It's only been four days, Donkey," Shrek replied, setting the table.

"I know that…it just seems a lot longer than that." Donkey sighed again, a bit stunned by how attached he had become to the cat. If Shrek wasn't in the mood to be around him, he could always count on Puss to keep him entertained.

"Why don't you stay for breakfast, Donkey?" Fiona asked, smiling when she saw Donkey's face brighten a bit.

0ooooooo0

After everyone had eaten and the triplets had woken up from their nap, they all headed outside for the afternoon, deciding that the beautiful weather was too good to pass up. Donkey kept a close watch on the babies as they played in the mud, while Shrek and Fiona relaxed in the warmth of the sun.

They played all through the afternoon, enjoying the Spring weather, which they all knew would eventually turn to blistering heat in the weeks to come. The triplets showed no signs of tiring, though Donkey appeared to be on his last legs.

"You little rascals are relentless," he commented. Their only response was a fit of giggles and excited clapping. Their attention left the donkey and focused on something else that seemed to entertain them even more. Following their gaze, Donkey's eyes lit up when he saw the slowly approaching feline. "Hey, Puss is back!"

Shrek and Fiona stepped outside, having gone inside momentarily for a drink. They both smiled when they saw the cat slowing making his way up the path. Fiona quickly sprinted forward and scooped up the infants as she noticed them starting to crawl over to greet the feline. "No, no, sweeties. Let's not torture Puss right now."

"Bless you," Puss replied as he walked by. "Hola, amigo," he greeted Donkey, patting him lightly on the leg. Donkey's smile faded a little when he took note of the look on Puss' face, but he had to remind himself that the cat hadn't exactly just come back from a luxury vacation. They all headed inside in silence, Donkey and Fiona glancing worriedly at each other.

Puss quietly greeted Shrek as he came inside, heading straight for the recliner to rest.

"Would you like something to drink? Milk? Tea maybe?" Fiona asked.

Puss thought it over for a moment. "Tea would be nice, thank you."

The ogress set the triplets down on the floor. "Would you keep an eye on them, Donkey?"

"No prob."

Puss looked over at Shrek, who he saw standing just off to the side, looking at him a bit worriedly. He then looked down at the recliner. "My apologies, señor. Do you wish to sit?" he asked as he started to get down.

"No, no, it's all right. I've been sittin' all day," the ogre replied with a laugh. "I think you need that chair more than I do right now."

Puss forced a smile, leaning back against the recliner.

"So…how did everything go?"

Puss sighed. "As good as one could hope, I suppose. My family didn't want me to leave. I suppose I really should have stayed one more day."

"What 'bout you an' your pop? Did you two have a fight?" Donkey chimed in without really thinking.

"Donkey!" Shrek snapped.

"Sorry," replied Donkey.

"No, but I did get into a fight with my brother, the one you didn't meet," Puss replied dryly.

Donkey's eyes grew wide. "Woah, really?! Who won?"

"Don_key_!" Shrek hissed.

"Sorry again."

Puss chuckled. "No one won, amigo; it was a tie."

"He kicked your butt, didn't he?" asked Donkey.

"No, Donkey," Puss replied, rolling his eyes. "I managed to get control on the situation, but he still managed to get a few good hits in there."

"What's going on between you two?"

"I'd…rather not discuss that right now."

Fiona suddenly emerged with the requested cup of tea. "Gracias, señora," said Puss as he reached out to take the tea.

"Puss, I'm really sorry about your mom," Fiona finally said. "I really wish you had told me."

Puss was silent for a moment as he stared at his reflection in the dark liquid. "I'm sorry. I know I should have been more open about all this but…it's just hard."

"But Puss, we're friends. Friends help each other."

The cat nodded slowly, bringing the cup to his lips, eyes shifting over to Shrek. "I suspected that you didn't believe me when I told you, señor. And to be perfectly honest, I was a bit glad you didn't. So I just continued what I was doing in secrecy as though I had never told you in the first place."

"You actually told Shrek?" asked Fiona, looking over to her husband with surprise.

"Well you remember how I recanted to you how we all met, si?"

Fiona nodded, still finding it hard to believe her father had actually tried to off her husband.

"Well that's when I told him. And I know how it seemed like I would just pull a story like that out of thin air to save myself. I wouldn't have believed me, either. Though I _was _trying to keep from getting wasted. It wasn't for my sake, though, it was for my family's."

Puss lowered his head as his friends stared at him with conflicting gazes. "I'm sorry, I really am."

Sighing, Fiona decided to give the subject a rest for Puss' sake. "Well…why don't I start dinner early, hmm? You're probably pretty hungry by now, aren't you?"

"Si, a little bit," Puss replied, though in reality, he felt like his stomach was about to eat its way right through his back.

"Donkey, are you staying?"

"Nah, I really should be getting back home." Donkey looked towards Puss as he started to make his way for the door. "Hey, good to have ya back," he said, smiling softly. Puss smiled back at his friend, waving a paw as he made his way out the door. Shrek knelt down and scooped up one of the infants, who was currently pawing at his leggings.

"Do you want to talk at all?" he prodded gently, though he didn't really expect the cat to be open this soon.

"No…not now."

Shrek only nodded. He bent down to gather up the remaining two infants and hurried into the bedroom to lay them down in their cot. He heard the curtains draw back and turned around to see Fiona stepping into the room.

"I still don't understand," she whispered, not wanting the cat to overhear her. "Why? Why was it so hard for him to consider asking us for help?"

Shrek sighed. "I don't know, Fiona. I don't know what's going on inside his head."

Fiona frowned. "It's a guy thing, isn't it?"

"Ehh…I'd say more of a pride thing."

"Well, the two are interchangeable."

Shrek snorted. "Well, maybe. But look, there's not much we can do. All we can do is let him know that we'll be there if he ever needs help, and maybe next time he's in a bind, he _will _come to us, but there ain't much else we _can _do. We can't force him."

Fiona sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah, I know."

0ooooooo0

Puss knew it had to be getting late. Every time he looked towards what little bit of the night sky he could see through the trees, he could tell that the stars had shifted slightly. But he just couldn't bring himself to move from his spot on the ground. While it felt good to be back in the presence of his friends, his need to be alone was dominating.

The feline removed his hat and set it aside before letting himself fall back onto the ground, relaxing one arm behind his head. It wasn't long before he heard the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by the sound of soft footsteps approaching him. Sighing, he closed his eyes as they came closer.

"Puss?"

The cat's eyes slowly opened to find Fiona standing over him, looking down at him with obvious worry.

"Aren't you coming inside?"

Puss paused before answering, looking on past the ogress and up at the twinkling stars. "I think I shall remain outside," he responded quietly.

"All night?"

"Si."

"Come on, Puss, wouldn't you rather come inside?"

"I do not mind the outdoors, Princesa."

Fiona sighed as she had a seat by the feline. "Puss, I know what you're going through. It's hard to watch someone you love die, especially when you know there's nothing you can do to stop it. You just feel so helpless."

Puss rolled over onto his side, his back facing Fiona. "It just kills me that I was away from her for so long, and then finally return home only to watch her leave me forever."

"I understand. You know, I was in that tower for most of my life. I hadn't seen my dad for so long…and then when I finally return home, before I can blink, he's gone. I hardly had a chance to really reconnect with him."

Puss looked over his shoulder at the princess for a moment, his eyes expressing sympathy. He pushed himself up into a sitting position again, his attention once again focusing somewhere else as his thoughts wandered.

"You know we're always here for you," he heard Fiona say, her voice full of affection.

"Yes…I know," the cat replied quietly, his voice just barely over a whisper. There was another moment of silence before Puss felt Fiona's hand begin to gently scratch behind his ear, evoking a low, continuous purr from the feline. Seconds later, he found himself being lifted up and nestled into the ogress' lap. Fiona wrapped her arms around his tiny frame and hugged him against her chest. Puss relaxed into the ogress' gentle caress, smiling contently.

0ooooooo0

The ogre triplets crawled towards the chair where their father usually resided, though now it was occupied by the Spaniard feline, who was now looking a bit nervous by the approach of the infants. They sat up on their knees and reached up their tiny hands towards the cat as far as they could go. Puss watched with growing guilt as the infants became distressed.

Sighing in defeat, Puss slid down from the chair and had a seat on the floor, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the sharp pain of having his tail yanked, or whatever kind of physical torture they had in store for him. Surprisingly, the triplets paid no attention his tail and instead all snuggled against him, wrapping their arms around him. He suddenly went rigid, still a bit fearful of the babies' intentions, but he eventually relaxed, smiling at the infants and patting their heads.

"So you _do _have a gentle side?"

The door suddenly opened and Donkey leapt inside in his usual, much-too-giddy fashion, smiling brightly.

"Afternoon, everybody!"

Fiona looked over her shoulder as she put away the dishes, returning the greeting with her usual cheerfulness.

"Where's Shrek?"

"Oh, he's outside…taking care of…well…business."

"Don't need to know," Donkey answered quickly. He smiled as the triplets made their way from the feline over to him, wrapping their arms around his legs. "Hey, rugrats." Donkey looked up at Puss, who was currently seizing the opportunity and leaping back into the recliner before the infants decided to go back on their show of mercy. "So I was thinking you and me hit the town, huh?"

"I don't think so."

"What? Why not? Come on, you've been back for two days now and you haven't done a thing. Aren't ya bored?"

"It couldn't hurt to get out of the house, Puss," Fiona agreed.

"Maybe tomorrow."

Donkey sighed. He knew it was still hard processing the loss of his mother and knew he probably wouldn't be back to his old self for several weeks, but he figured getting out with friends and staying active was probably the best thing the feline could do right now.

It was that moment that Shrek appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, Donkey, what a surprise," he said dully.

Donkey ignored the ogre, his attention still on the cat. "You're sure you don't wanna do anything?" he tried again, still hopeful.

"No, amigo. Not today."

Donkey looked towards the floor in disappointment, but that disappointment melted away just as quickly as it had come as a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Ah, you know what? Forget going out. I think I just got a better idea."

Puss raised a brow, showing he was listening.

"How's 'bout telling us how the whole 'Puss In Boots' thing got started?"

"What?"

"Yeah, c'mon! After everything that's happened these last few days, it's got me curious. I wanna know everything you did before you ran into us."

"You know, I'm kind of curious myself," Fiona chimed in. Even Shrek seemed a bit intrigued by the idea.

"You don't really want to know all that, do you?" asked Puss, not sounding so enthused.

"You bet I do! And I don't wantcha to leave out any details!"

Puss leaned back into the recliner. "I don't know."

"Aw, c'mon. Shrek and I told you about how we first met and rescued Fiona, remember? Please?" Donkey pleaded. "Please, please, please, please, plea-"

"Donkey!" Shrek and Puss shouted in unison.

"Hey, you act cute to get your way, and _I _act annoying. It works for me," Donkey replied smugly. "Please, please, please, please-"

"Puss, just put us out of our misery before I put him out of _his_," Shrek interjected, glaring down at the source of his annoyance.

"Oh, all right. I suppose it will help pass the time."

Donkey flashed a toothy grin, settling himself down on the floor. Fiona retrieved a couple of chairs from under the dining table for herself and her husband and they both settled themselves in front of the feline, Shrek with two of the infants in his lap and Fiona with the third. Puss pondered momentarily on where to start.

"Ugh…" he started, scratching his chin. "Where do you want me to begin, exactly? Do you want me to start when I first left home?"

His friends glanced at each other, pondering the thought as well.

"You know, I'd kind of like to know about your early life," said Fiona.

"Well…in that case, this story is probably going to be pretty long." Puss still wasn't exactly sure where to start. He could only go back so far. "All right, well-"

"Hold on!" Donkey interrupted. "We need some popcorn or something! We can't have a story without munchies! You got any snacks in this place that don't blink?" Getting up, Donkey prepared to try and search for a suitable snack but Shrek quickly caught him by the tail and yanked him back to his spot on the floor.

"Later, Donkey," he said, rolling his eyes. Donkey huffed but said nothing.

"May I?" Puss asked a bit irritably, crossing his arms.

"Go ahead," said Fiona.


	5. Once Upon a Terrible Day

Chapter V:  
**Once Upon a Terrible Day**

A small kitten looked over his shoulder as the soft sound of shifting gravel came into earshot. His ears perked and he stood up from the lush grass that surrounded the cottage, green eyes becoming bright with excitement as he saw his father make his way down the dirt path, a hefty catch of fish secured in one paw.

"Papi!" the kitten yelled excitedly as he ran to meet his father. "How many did you catch?!" he asked as he continued to eyeball the swaying fish.

"Plenty, mijo," the older cat replied with a soft smile. "We'll certainly eat well tonight, that's for sure."

"Can I go next time?"

The black and white cat sighed. His son asked the same question every time he returned home from fishing down at the pond and each time he could only answer with "Maybe", which would eventually turn into "No" by the time he went to fish again. His son was simply too young and hyperactive to really take in an activity that required so much patience. But he knew at some point, he'd have to cave. He could only disappoint the kitten so many times before it eventually blew up in his face.

"We'll see, Ciro," he answered, rubbing the top of the kitten's head. They turned and walked up the cobble pathway that led to the front steps of the cottage, Ciro bolting ahead of his father and bursting through the front door. He found his mother in the kitchen, already getting things ready for dinner.

"Papi said I could go fishing with him next time!" the kitten exclaimed to his mother, craning his neck to look up at her.

"Oh?" she replied with a smile, looking from her son to her husband, whose smile had faded at the kitten's misunderstanding.

"No, son, I said, 'We'll see'."

Ciro looked towards the floor, his excitement deflated.

"Oh, Emilio, just take him with you. It won't kill you."

Emilio waited until his son had toddled out of the kitchen before offering a reply. "Catalina, fishing requires a lot of patience, and right now he has _none _of that. I just think I should wait until he's a little older."

"Don't you think the younger he learns to be patient, the better?" Catalina shot back, raising a brow smugly. The male sighed as he placed his catch on the counter for cleaning.

"I suppose. It would definitely help when I start training him."

Catalina's ears flattened slightly at hearing the word 'training' enter the discussion. "You know, I really don't like your assumption that he'll even _want _to continue the tradition. Have you even talked to him about it?"

"No, but I will."

"And if he doesn't want to do it?"

"He will."

"How do you know?"

"Cat, don't try my patience right now."

Catalina ceased cutting the vegetables laid out in front of her and turned to face the other feline completely, arms crossed. "Well, I just don't want you counting your chickens before they hatch is all."

Emilio looked at the female out of the corner of his eye. "You don't want him to carry on the name, do you?"

"Honestly? No, I really don't. But in the end, it's up to him and no one else. I just want you to acknowledge that."

"Fine," the male snapped before fetching a knife to begin cleaning the fish. Catalina sighed as she turned to finish cutting the vegetables, feeling that her words hadn't really nestled into the other cat's mind. She really hoped the discussion wouldn't have to come up again in the future.

Once dinner had been prepared Catalina called Ciro back into the kitchen. The kitten appeared within seconds, scampering into the kitchen and nearly losing his footing as he went. His mother picked him up and sat him down in his chair, which was prepared with a couple of books stacked together on the seat, as his head didn't quite reach over the table yet.

"So am I coming fishing with you next time?" he asked, his excitement having returned to him. Emilio looked to Catalina, who only offered him a look that stated quite clearly, "You better say, 'Yes' or I'll hurt you."

"All right, Ciro," he answered, allowing a smile at seeing his son's eyes grow wide with sheer joy. "But look, fishing requires a lot of patience and careful attention. You can't be running around and doing other things while you're doing it. Can you do that?"

Ciro nodded his head, though Emilio didn't really take the answer seriously. But he couldn't disappoint his son now.

"All right, then."

Ciro beamed, as did his mother.

"You two will have fun," she said, though it was more of a reassurance to her husband.

0ooooooo0

Catalina came to a slow, steady halt, just thirty feet from the little schoolhouse. She knelt down so that she was eye level with her son and smiled. "All right, Ciro, be good. As soon as school lets out, you wait for me or your father to come get you. Don't wander off, understood?"

The kitten rolled his eyes. "Mami, you say the same thing to me every day."

"That's right," Catalina agreed, smiling briefly before adding, "Because that's my job." She pulled her son towards her and kissed the top of his head. "Go on," she said as she gently pushed his rump, urging him towards the school. Within seconds, the school bell sounded and the children raced inside, Ciro being smart to stay at the tail end of the horde of students, as he could have easily been trampled. He stopped in the doorway and turned to wave to his mother one last time before finally heading inside the stuffy building, finding his seat in the second row. He climbed up into his seat with a bit of effort.

"Hi," a red-haired girl greeted him as he settled into his seat.

"Hola, Rosie," Ciro greeted back.

Ciro opened his desk to store his book away and was greeted by the sight of a dead fish staring lifelessly back at him. The kitten didn't need to think twice before determining the culprit. He turned around in his seat to glare daggers at a young, dirty blond-haired boy sitting just three seats behind him in the third row.

"What?" the boy asked innocently. "Don't you like fish?" he added with a smirk. A couple of other children snickered.

Rosie shook her head in disgust. "Ms. Harris?" she addressed the teacher as she raised her hand. "Hansel put a dead fish in Ciro's desk."

The teacher walked over and peered into Ciro's desk, crinkling her nose in disgust. "Hansel, come and dispose of this fish right now," she said.

The child grumbled under his breath as he slid out of his seat and came over to retrieve the fish.

"And once you've done that, go stand in the corner until recess."

Ciro locked eyes with the boy as he took the fish from his desk. The kitten's fur raised slightly as he shot him an intense, warning glare, though this only seemed to amuse the boy. He smirked mischievously at the cat as he walked on.

Once recess rolled around, Ciro sought Rosie's company under the maple tree, as she was the only student he really felt comfortable around. The little girl fetched a stick and drew a tic-tac-toe board in the dirt. She and Ciro passed the time by playing several rounds of the game, not paying much attention to the other children. As they started their tenth game, a shadow fell over the dirt. Ciro slowly looked up with noticeable dread, finding Hansel towering over him with arms crossed.

"Go away, Hansel," Rosie drawled, rolling her eyes. The boy sneered.

"Why are you always over here with the stupid cat? Do you only like hanging out with freaks now?"

"Shut up," Rosie snapped through clenched teeth.

Ciro glared down at the dirt, claws beginning to unsheathe as thoughts of putting the boy in his place swam around in his mind. He slowly looked back up, finding the boy staring down at him.

"Why don't you go live in a barn and chase mice like you're supposed to?" the boy told the kitten.

Ciro stood up abruptly, glaring up at the boy. "Why don't _you _go get eaten by a witch?!" he shot back before making an attempt to walk away. Narrowing his eyes, Hansel turned and stomped on the kitten's tail as he walked by. Ciro yowled in pain, gathering his tail up in his paws as he fought back tears. Hansel let loose a hardy laugh at his expense, but it was quickly cut short as Ciro charged with a furious yell at the boy and leapt up onto his face. He screamed as the kitten sunk his claws into his flesh.

Students began to crowd around them, chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"That's enough!" Ms. Harris yelled as she pushed through the students and ran over to pry the kitten off the boy's face. "Get off of him!" The woman grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off. He fought briefly, but he eventually went limp, breathing heavily. Ms. Harris placed Ciro down on the ground and raced over to help Hansel to his feet.

"Ms. Harris, Hansel started it," Rosie protested.

"I don't care who started it! There is no excuse for this!" she said sternly, pointing a finger to the boy's bloody face. "Ciro, go inside and stand in the corner," she ordered the kitten, glaring at him murderously. "I'll be in to deal with you in a minute."

Ciro knew better than to argue. Without a word, he turned and slowly made his way back into the schoolhouse, hanging his head. Ms. Harris escorted Hansel inside to the back room of the schoolhouse where the medical supplies were stored.

0ooooooo0

Ciro stood in the corner for well up to fifteen minutes before he heard the angry footsteps of Ms. Harris near the front of the room. His heart plummeted into his stomach, not quite sure what to expect at this point.

"Come here, Ciro," he heard her order. Gulping, Ciro slowly turned and made his way towards the front of the classroom, eyes on the floor. He stopped when he saw the teacher's shoes come into view and he looked up fearfully. Still sneering, the teacher placed a stool down onto the floor. "Climb up here and stand on the top of this stool," she snapped. Without a word, Ciro did as he was told, his fear mounting. Once he was standing on top of the stood, Ms. Harris turned and retrieved a ruler from the top of her desk. "Hold out your paws," she said, tapping the ruler against her open palm.

The feline now knew what was coming. He reluctantly held out his paws, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the painful strike of the ruler, which the teacher didn't waste any time delivering.

The kitten cried out after the first strike. He bit down on his bottom lip as more strikes succeeded the first. Though he had only been struck five times, the pain made it seem like it had been twice that amount. Once the punishment had been carried out, Ciro had the urge to shove both his paws in cold water. He sniffled as tears welled, rubbing his paws in hopes of ebbing away the pain.

"Now go back to the corner and stay there until school is over. I'm going to write a letter to your parents," said Ms. Harris as she had a seat behind her desk, picking up the quill from the ink bottle. Ciro slowly climbed down from the stool and made his way to the back of the classroom, tail dragging against the wooden floor.

As he stood in the corner, the kitten tried as hard as he could to keep from sobbing. Physical punishment was _not _something he was used to. His parents had never once laid a paw on him when he misbehaved, and this was the first time he had ever seen physical punishment demonstrated in the classroom. Standing in the corner, or wearing a 'Dunce' cap was something he saw almost every day, but this was a first. He never once thought teachers went that far.

Eventually the classroom was bustling with noise again as the students filed back inside and took their seats in preparation for the final hour of class. Ciro wiped his eyes and tried to calm his nerves, not wanting any of his classmates to hear him weeping. But that was rather hard to do as more dread plagued him at the thought of what his parents would say when he'd have to present them with that letter.

0ooooooo0

Ciro's heart pounded against his chest as the minutes ticked by. Any moment now he would see either his father or mother make their way up the hill to meet him. He wasn't sure whose reaction he should fear more, his father or mother's. Either way, he knew his suffering was not quite over yet. Now he would have to face the wrath of his parents.

Looking up, Ciro saw a black and white cat trudging his way up the hill. Sighing, the kitten clutched the letter tightly in his still slightly aching paw and walked over to meet him.

"What's the matter, mijo?" Emilio asked as he took note of how distraught his son looked. He became even more concerned when he saw the note in his paw. "What's that?"

Ciro looked down at the note in his paw, and then looked back up at his father guiltily.

"Oh, boy," his father sighed, knowing the letter didn't have anything positive to say. "Come on."

The cat turned and started making his way back home, Ciro trailing behind. Though he would have liked it to, the walk home didn't seem to take as long as it usually did. As they made their way through the front door, Emilio called out to Catalina.

"Cat, that day has finally come!"

"What day?" Catalina replied as she appeared from the kitchen.

"_This _day," Emilio answered as he took the letter from his son and held it up for her to see. "That special day in a parent's life," he added sarcastically.

"Oh, Ciro," Catalina replied with heavy dread as she reached out to take the letter. "What did you do?" She opened the letter, expecting it to say that her son had been acting up in class or wasn't paying attention. Reading over the letter, her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Ciro Rivera Delgado, you got into a fight?!" she cried with clear disapproval, sharply looking up from the letter to look down at the kitten.

"Did you win?" Emilio asked as he looked down at his son with a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"Emilio!" Catalina scolded as she swatted her husband on the arm.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

Catalina bent down and took Ciro by the arm, dragging him into the living room and sitting him down on the couch. "Explain yourself right now," she said firmly. Ciro looked from his mother to his father, who he was relieved, as well as a bit surprised, to see clearly didn't appear to be that upset. He looked back down at his paws, tears threatening to fall again.

Noticing his distress, Catalina's face softened a little. "Tell me what happened," she tried a bit more gently.

"Hansel was picking on me," Ciro replied.

"That's no excuse for you to go and claw this boy's face off," his mother protested, her anger beginning to flare up again.

"Hold on, Cat," Emilio interjected, holding up a paw. "Ciro, what exactly did he say to you?"

The kitten wiped his eyes. "He…He told me I should be chasing after mice in a barn like all the other cats."

Catalina's eyes widened slightly.

"He said what?" Emilio replied, his tone becoming dangerously cold.

"Did you tell the teacher?" Catalina asked.

"Well…no. I told him he should just go get eaten by a witch, and then I tried to walk away, but he stomped on my tail!"

A look crossed Catalina's face that was a clear indication to Emilio that blood was about to spill.

"That does it," the female snapped as she turned and stormed out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Emilio called after her.

"To have a little chat with this boy's parents!" Catalina called back, opening the front door and heading outside. "Where does this little brat live?!" she yelled from outside. Emilio chuckled as he reached down to pick up his son.

"We better watch ourselves. She may turn into a bobcat under the glow of the full moon," he joked. He caught up with his wife, who looked about ready to go out of her mind. "Calm down," Emilio told her gently.

"I'll be calm when _I _claw someone's face off!" the female snapped, the fur on her neck raising slightly. "This has been going on for too long! I've had it!"

Emilio took her firmly by the arm. "Calm. Down," he repeated. "Now look, instead of talking to this boy's parents, who are most likely as ignorant as he is, let's just talk to the teacher."

"Fine."

Catalina turned and began making her way towards the school with determined strides, while Emilio tried to keep up. "Don't get carried away," he warned. "It's not going to help our case if we act like a couple of psychos."

"Don't worry, I'll be polite…as long as _she_ doesn't tick me off, too."

"Somehow I think that's inevitable."

Once the family reached the schoolhouse, Catalina went up to the door and knocked twice before pushing it open. She marched inside with her husband following close behind, not taking notice of the look of surprise on the teacher's face. She placed her quill back into the ink bottle and clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Delgado," she greeted with as much politeness as her frayed nerves would allow.

"Hello," Catalina replied gruffly.

"Here, let me get you a couple of stools," Ms. Harris offered as she grabbed the stool that sat next to her desk and presented it to Catalina. She then went to the back room and fetched another one for Emilio. "I guess I should say I'm not that surprised to see you here," she remarked as she sat the stool down for Emilio. She took her place back behind her desk again. "I _am _glad you're here, though, because we really need to talk about your son's behavior."

"Oh, no, no, no," Catalina snapped. "_We _are the ones who are going to do the talking, and _you _are the one who is going to listen."

"Now, Cat…"

Catalina turned to glare at her husband.

"Let me talk, all right?" he tried patiently.

"Fine, but I _am _going to say my part before we leave this school," Catalina asserted, crossing her arms.

Emilio turned his attention back to the teacher. "Look…from what our son told us, he didn't start the dispute. Some kid made some very bigoted remarks about him and I just want to know what is being done about him. I don't want my son to be the only one in trouble here."

"Well, I didn't witness the whole thing. I just saw your son on top of Hansel, clawing at his face."

Agitated, Ciro turned to look at the woman. "But Rosie saw it. She told you Hansel started it!"

Emilio looked from his son back to the teacher. "So you _did _have a witness?"

Ms. Harris shook her head. "It makes no difference who said what. It does not justify your son's actions."

"Oh, really? Look, this isn't the first time Ciro has come home and told us kids were picking on him, and from what he's told us, it doesn't sound like you've really done that much about it. It sounds to me like our son just got sick of waiting around for you to do something and finally took matters into his own hands. A person can only take so much abuse."

"Well, clearly I can see where your son gets it. Apparently, you have no problem with senseless violence."

"Now see here-"

It was Catalina's turn to try and calm her husband down this time. She reached over to touch his arm, and he quickly relaxed. She took the opportunity to offer her words:

"We are not trying to condone violence here," she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her own anger from boiling over. "But we don't like that our son is facing verbal abuse and you only take action when _he _does something you don't approve of. That's not fair."

"There is only so much we can do. No matter how much we discipline these kids, they are still going to say mean things. That's not something that's going to change over night. We just punish children accordingly and then hope that maybe they'll turn over a new leaf."

"So _did _you punish Hansel?" Emilio asked.

"Well…"

"Like I said, you don't do a damn thing about the kids who are bullying him."

"But I'm guessing you punished our son, didn't you?" Catalina added, clearly aggravated.

"Well, of course. What he did was far more extreme. I had him stand in the corner for the rest of the day _and _I gave him five lashes with the ruler."

Both Emilio's and Catalina's eyes widened.

"You did _what_?!" Catalina yelled. "You hit my baby with a _ruler_?!"

Ms. Harris looked rather surprised by the cat's apparent disapproval.

"I don't know why you sound so surprised. It's a very standard method of punishment."

"Look here, you crazy puta! _I _don't hit my son! So what gives _you _the right?!"

"It is a standard punishment for students who badly misbehave," the teacher repeated irritably.

"Well, maybe in _your _sick little world, but _my _standard is that unless you want to see your vital organs on the _outside_, then you don't lay a hand on my child!"

"Students who behave like your son deserve severe punishment!"

"Oh, well then…" Catalina reached forward and snatched the ruler from the teacher's desk before hopping down from the stool. "Let's see how _you _like it, then!" she yelled, raising the ruler into the air as she started to make her way around the desk.

Emilio quickly leapt down from his stool and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "That's enough, Cat! Here, take Ciro and wait for me outside."

With a sneer, Catalina dropped the ruler and took her son in her arms. Her eyes burned with sheer malice as she shot the teacher a glare on the way out.

"So much for not getting ticked off," Emilio mumbled to himself.

"I think you really need to learn to control your wife better," said Ms. Harris once Catalina was out of earshot.

Emilio bit back a snarl. "Believe me, Señorita Harris, I would have liked nothing more than for her to give you a taste of your own medicine."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "The punishments stay. I am not going to change them."

"It's not just your disturbing methods of punishment that concern us! It is your _lack _of concern when other students are harassing my son."

"For your information, Hansel placed a dead fish in Ciro's desk today and I had him stand in the corner. I've had him stand in the corner plenty of times for things that he's said to your son, so don't accuse me of not taking action against other students' behavior."

Emilio allowed himself a moment to let the look of disgust come and go from his face. "That's not enough. What the hell does making a child stand in a corner teach them, how to look for termites in the walls? You should be talking to these kids about their actions and why they're wrong. Not only that, but you should monitor them, too. Do you even watch the children when they're outside, playing?"

"I have papers to grade," Ms. Harris replied haughtily.

"If you were outside keeping an eye on them, then a lot of this would never happen. It seems like everything that's happened with Ciro has always happened during recess."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't always be out there to watch every little thing they do."

Emilio sighed. "No, I guess you can't. And I guess you're right that we can't change how children behave. But don't think I'm just going to sit back and let my son endure that kind of abuse every day. He won't be back to this school."

"Don't you want your son to get a decent education?"

"Of course I do, but at what cost? It's not worth my son having to put up with verbal abuse from his classmates, and then physical abuse from his teachers. No, I won't tolerate it. We'll home school him from now on."

"Very well, then. Do as you wish."

Emilio briskly walked past Ms. Harris and out the door, finding Catalina standing just a few feet away from the schoolhouse.

"Well?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Ciro's not going back to that school."

Catalina snorted. "Oh, you didn't have to tell me that. I wouldn't dream of sending him back there." The female ran a paw up and down her son's back soothingly. "You don't want to go back there, right?"

The kitten shook his head. He became overwhelmed with relief at hearing he wouldn't have to go back. "The only thing I'm going to miss is Rosie," he mumbled against his mother's thick fur. "She was always nice."

"I'm sure you'll make other friends somehow," his mother said reassuringly.

Ciro felt doubtful, not sure how he was going to make any friends when he would no longer be in an environment where there were other children, but he certainly wasn't about to beg his parents to let him stay in that school. Since the first day he had set foot into that schoolhouse, it had been anything but pleasant.

"Why did everyone always pick on me?"

Emilio sighed. "Well, son, it's like I've told you before, you're just different. Talking animals aren't exactly a norm around here. And for some reason that I have yet to figure out, people sometimes don't know how to act when they see anything different. Sometimes they avoid it, and sometimes they ridicule it."

Ciro's brow furrowed as he tried to understand the logic, but he just couldn't see any rational reason for it. He just couldn't understand how being different called for ridicule. Wasn't _everyone _different in their own way?

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know I haven't gone into any vivid details about what Puss' family looks like. I'm trying to get their portraits drawn up, though my artistic skills suck more than a hoover vacuum. However, I did manage to track down some images off of Google that closely depict what the characters look like. So until I can finish my character profiles and get them posted to deviantART, please refer to these images for a good mental picture of the characters:

Emilio: http: // img . photobucket . com/albums/v298/dracori/Emilio . jpg

Catalina: http: // img. photobucket . com/albums/v298/dracori/Catalina . jpg

Benito: http: // img . photobucket . com/albums/v298/dracori/Benito . jpg

Victor: http: // img . photobucket . com/albums/v298/dracori/Victor . jpg

**Please remember to remove the spaces, or the links won't work.**


	6. Uncertain Future

Chapter VI:  
**Uncertain Future**

For the next week, both Catalina and Emilio worked with Ciro every day, though Catalina had more free time. They mostly focused on reading and math, as these were the subjects they knew their son would need above anything else. Ciro definitely felt a bit more relaxed being home schooled. A little _too _relaxed.

"Ciro, pay attention," said Catalina, noticing her son staring longingly out the window again.

"I wanna go outside and play," the kitten complained, leaning his elbows on the table and placing his chin in his paws. His mother sighed.

"Darling, you know reading is important."

"But I'm tired."

"Well, if you're tired, then how can you feel like playing?" Catalina shot back with a smirk. The kitten's eyes shifted from side to side as he thought over his words and then he crossed his arms, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout. As soft as she was, it didn't take long for his mother to give in.

"All right. We'll pack a lunch and go down to the pond. How about that? But we're getting straight back to work as soon we come back."

"Yes!" the kitten exclaimed excitedly as he flung himself out of his chair and scampered out of his room. His mother got up and followed after him.

"Wait for me outside but don't wander off!" she called to him as she saw him heading for the front door. After making a lunch and wrapping it up in a picnic basket, Catalina and Ciro walked down to the pond. Catalina spread a blanket out on the grassy bank and settled down to read a book while Ciro played.

The kitten played along the very edge of the bank, throwing stones into the water and pawing at the small bream that swam close to the bank, the closest thing he could do to fishing until his father acted on his promise, which he truly hoped would be soon.

The youngster loved playing near the pond more than anywhere else. The wide variety of flowers that bloomed along the bank meant an abundance of butterflies for the young cat to chase. As he scampered along the bank of the pond, chasing various insects that jumped or took flight at his approach, his ears perked when he heard what sounded like crying coming from within a bed of reeds. Ciro slowly crept towards the reeds with heightened curiosity and slowly parted them, finding a small, gray duckling.

"Hi!" said Ciro cheerfully, startling the little duckling. He looked up at the kitten, blinking his blue eyes in surprise. He was silent for a short moment as he eyed the kitten with confusion.

"Are…you talking to me?" he said, wiping his eyes with one of his small wings. Ciro nodded, smiling.

"Why are you crying?"

The little duckling stared back at the kitten for the longest time, his expression becoming more and more confused. "Aren't you going to tell me I'm ugly?"

Ciro cocked a brow. "Why would I say that?"

Now the little duckling looked more confused than ever, though Ciro's expression wasn't much different.

"Well, everyone else does," the duckling replied with a shrug. "It's the first thing they say when they see me. They say I don't look like a duckling is supposed to look. I'm bigger than all my brothers and sisters…and I'm not the right color."

Now that Ciro thought about it, he never recalled seeing a duckling of a gray color before. Every duck that he had ever seen had been a vibrant or pale yellow with an orange-colored beak. But even so, he really didn't see how that made him ugly. He was different, sure, but not ugly.

"I don't think you're ugly. You might look different but that doesn't make you ugly."

The duckling's beak fell open. "Really?"

"Really, really."

Now feeling a bit more confident in himself, the duckling hopped out of the reed bed and onto the grassy bank beside the kitten. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Ciro. Yours?"

"Henry."

"So where's your family?"

"Back at the farm. I just had to get away. I mean…it's the same thing every day: everyone points and laughs and makes jokes. Even my mom thinks I'm ugly."

It was Ciro's turn to be the one in shock this time. "Your own _mom_?" he asked. He tried to picture the thought of his own mother calling him ugly, but he just couldn't fathom it. What kind of mother called their child 'ugly', regardless of whether or not it was true?

The little duckling shrugged. "The only ones who don't make fun of me are these three mice that live on the farm…but they're blind, anyway, so I really don't think they count," he added with a laugh.

"I know what it feels like," Ciro commented as he took a swat at a little yellow butterfly that flew overhead.

"For everyone to think you're ugly?"

"Well, just to be picked on because you stand out against everyone else. I was the only talking animal in a class of human kids, and a lot of kids picked on me for it…especially this one kid that I ended up getting into a fight with."

"You got into a fight with a human?!" Henry responded, eyes bright with excitement.

"Yep," Ciro replied, feeling a bit proud of himself now.

"Cool!"

"Ciro, come back this way!" Ciro's mother called, waving for her son to start heading back in her direction. The kitten got up and started making his way over to where his mother sat, but then noticed that Henry remained where he stood.

"Come on," Ciro urged, motioning for the duckling to follow.

"I don't know…"

"Just come on."

Sighing, the duckling waddled after the kitten, still uncertain about meeting new people, as it never once proved to be a positive experience up until this point. He stayed as closely behind the cat as he could in hopes of hiding himself from view.

"Are you ready to eat?" Catalina asked as she pulled the picnic basket towards her. Ciro nodded. Noticing Henry trying to hide behind him, he stepped out of the way.

"Why are you hiding behind me?"

The duckling just looked to the ground, not saying a word.

"Is this a new friend of yours?" Catalina asked cheerfully.

"His name's Henry."

Ciro's mother looked a bit relieved to say the least. "See, now didn't I tell you you'd make new friends?"

"Can he live with us?!" the kitten suddenly asked out of the blue, eyes hopeful. His mother looked a bit surprised by the question at first, but then she chuckled.

"No, mijo. He has a family, too."

"But his mom's mean," Ciro protested.

"Now, Ciro, why would you say something like that?"

"She called him ugly."

Catalina's expression changed dramatically. She glanced down at the little gray duckling with furrowed brows. "Is that true?"

Henry sighed, shuffling his webbed feet. "Yeah…but it's not so bad. She takes really good care of me."

"But she-"

Catalina quickly put a paw to her son's mouth. "That's enough, Ciro."

Henry looked off in the direction of the farm. "I should probably go home now," he said in a tone that clearly stated home was the last place he wanted to go. He waved a wing at the felines before he started waddling for home. Ciro watched the duckling depart briefly before looking up at his mother with a look of loss.

"Everyone says he's ugly. He says they make fun of him because he's not the right color or something."

Catalina sighed, opening up the picnic basket. "Well, Ciro, that's the way things are in this world. There are some people who just don't know how to react when they see something out of the norm, just as your father said. You, unfortunately, know how that is," she added as she playfully tugged on her son's ear.

"But why?"

"I don't know, mijo. But it's for those reasons that I don't think you could have made a better friend."

0ooooooo0

Catalina stepped outside, her eyes searching. She caught sight of her son and Henry playing in the yard several feet away from the house. Clutching her green shawl timidly, she walked around the cottage and quickly spotted Emilio on the other side of the white, picket fence, pouring water into the trough for their miniature horse.

"Emilio…" Catalina began apprehensively. "I need to talk to you about something."

"All right, well let me finish up here," her husband replied, barely making eye contact. Catalina turned and walked back inside the house, happy to stall for as long as she could with the news she had in store for the other feline. She sat quietly in their bedroom, tapping the bedspread anxiously with her paws. Her head shot up when Emilio finally stepped into the room minutes later.

"Alright, what did you need to talk to me about?" he asked nonchalantly as he shut the door behind him, but that attitude quickly changed when he saw just how serious his mate looked. "Is everything all right?"

"Well, we can afford to put food on the table, so we're okay in that department," the female replied in a jubilant, joking tone, trying to lighten her husband's mood, though he didn't seem at all relaxed, as he knew she was stalling, which told him whatever she had to say was a big one. "And…hopefully we'll still be able to here in the next two months," she added.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emilio asked, though he was starting to get a clear idea of where this conversation was going.

"Well…umm…I think I'm pregnant."

Emilio stood with his mouth agape for a moment, trying to digest his wife's words. "Wha…What?" he asked.

"Pregnant, Emilio. I think I'm pregnant."

Catalina quickly stood up, afraid her husband might actually fall over as she noticed him sway slightly. "Maybe you should sit down."

"But…you…we…pregnant? When did this happen?"

Catalina rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say…when we were having sex?"

"This is no time for your sarcastic comments, Cat! This is serious!" The black cat began to rapidly pace the room, his green eyes as big as plates. "We can't have more kids right now."

"Well, I guess you should have thought of that before you got frisky the other night, hmm?"

Emilio ran a paw over his head, his patience wavering. "I thought we were careful."

"Well, so much for that."

The male gritted his teeth, turning sharply to glare at the red cat. "I don't see how you can be so damn calm!"

"Well, I'm terribly sorry. I'll just go outside and run around like a crazy woman and scream hysterically, how about that? Do you honestly think I'm not worried myself?"

Emilio went over to the bed and sat down, shoving his face in his paws. "Cat…we can't do it. We can't have more kids. Money is extremely tight, and we already have a child that we can barely afford to feed."

Catalina crossed her arms, tawny eyes becoming icy. "Then what do you suggest?" she asked quietly.

"Adoption?"

"No!" Catalina cried, wrapping her arms around her yet-to-be bulging stomach. "I'm not giving them up!"

Emilio pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cat…It's not that I want us to, but we can't take on more children. And we wouldn't give them away to just anyone. We'd make sure we found them the absolute best home out there, where we know they'll be loved and well-cared for, not just a bunch of tools for catching mice."

"We are _not _giving them up," Catalina asserted firmly. "We can make it work. We'll…We'll just have to start eating what we catch more often."

"Cat, I can't fish every day. I'd suck that pond dry in no time. Sometimes we're going to _have _to buy our meat."

Catalina sat back down onto the bed, eyes falling to the floor. "I don't care. It'll work out. We don't have to give them up."

She looked up at her husband again, her eyes pleading. She knew that even if she agreed to give them away now, there was no doubt that the moment she laid eyes on them, her mothering instinct would be too powerful to overcome. She'd never be able to part with them. But deep down, she was just as worried as Emilio. It was hard enough for them to get by as it was, and they had no idea just how big this litter might be. But it made no difference to her whether they had one or twelve; she was _not _going to give them up.

"Well…I certainly hope you're right."

0ooooooo0

After having walked inside, Ciro made his way into his bedroom and scanned the floor, spotting what he was looking for over by the bed. As he went over to retrieve the leather ball, he heard his father shout something from the next room. Becoming curious, he exited his room and approached his parents' bedroom door. Hearing his father shout was not something he heard very often. He stood silently by the door, leaning against the wall as he tried to listen to the conversation, which had become a lot quieter.

"Money is extremely tight, and we already have a child that we can barely afford to feed," he heard his father say. As far as he was concerned, the rest of the conversation ceased to exist, as this was the only thing he heard that stuck with him. All that registered with him at that moment was that his parents were struggling, and he was the reason.

Lowering his head, Ciro turned and slowly made his way towards the front door. He stopped suddenly as a terrifying thought came to mind: though he didn't recall much else about his parents' discussion, he was certain he _did _recall hearing the word, 'adoption'. His blood ran cold as his mind drew up a possible, horrifying conclusion. Were his parents really thinking about giving him up?

The kitten opened the front door in a daze, barely acknowledging the little gray duckling waiting for him outside.

"Toss it here!" Henry called to the his friend.

Ciro tried to shake himself out of his thoughts as he dropped the worn out, leather ball to the ground and kicked it towards his friend.

"What's wrong?" Henry asked after acknowledging Ciro's lack of interest.

"I heard my parents talking," he replied, taking a seat on one of the stone steps. Sighing, he added, "I didn't know how hard it was to take care of me."

Henry looked a bit confused for a moment. "What'd you mean?"

"They don't have a lot of money."

The little duckling still didn't really know what to make of his friend's words. He knew nothing about money or what really went behind providing food for someone. He and his entire family were constantly dependant on humans to come outside and toss them their bread and feed. He never once thought of _where _that food came from, or what the humans did to get it. He just knew it would be there for him every day when he was hungry.

Ciro sighed again, vaguely wondering if his parents ever wished they didn't have a son, but then he quickly chided himself for thinking such a thing. He knew his parents loved him with every fiber of their being, and they would certainly never revoke that love over anything. Or at least that is what he hoped. After constantly replaying his father's words over again and again in his mind, it was difficult for the youngster to firmly reassure himself that there was no regret to his existence. And the fact that he was certain he heard the word, 'adoption' somewhere within that discussion fueled his doubts even more.

Looking up, the kitten saw that Henry had approached him, his blue eyes soft with concern. He wasn't sure what to tell the little cat, as his worries were not within his realm of understanding. "Don't worry about it," he said cheerfully, eyes brightening. He nodded for Ciro to follow him into the yard, hoping that maybe if he played a bit, his thoughts would be eased.

Ciro got to his feet and followed his friend, the same idea in mind. But unfortunately, the kitten could not shake his troubling thoughts.

0ooooooo0

It was about five thirty in the evening when Catalina called for Ciro to come into the kitchen for dinner. Rather than running full speed into the room like he normally did, he slowly trudged in with his ears lowered and shoulders slumped, tail dragging across the floor.

"Ciro, what's wrong?" his mother asked as she lifted him into his seat. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No," Ciro replied quietly. He looked up when he heard his mother place his plate in front of him. "I don't want to eat," he said as he regarded the food with guilt.

"Why not?" asked Emilio as he had a seat at the other end of the table.

Ciro looked down at his paws laced together in his lap, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Well…I want to skip a meal every day."

"Why?" Catalina asked, leaning back with a look of shock.

"Well…you said we didn't have a lot of money, and it was really hard to take care of me. But if I skip a meal, then you won't have to buy as much food." Suddenly the kitten beamed at his parents, feeling as though he had come up with an ingenious solution, though his parents looked rather horrified to say the least. Catalina turned and shot a glare at her husband.

"I didn't know he was listening!" the male stated defensively.

Catalina shook her head as she turned to her son again. "Honey, you're our priority. We _want _to take care of you. If anyone is going to skip any meals around here, it'll be me and your father," she said, smiling. "Or maybe just your father," she added as she shot another glare at her husband, who rolled his eyes as he started to eat his meal. "So you eat all you want, all right?" Catalina reassured, smiling gently at the kitten.

"Really? You're not going to get rid of me?"

Catalina's horrified expression instantly returned. "Get rid of you? What on Earth gave you that idea?"

"I thought I heard you say something about adoption."

Catalina nervously looked across the table at her husband, whose eyes reflected a high level of guilt. "No, honey. You must have misunderstood us. We would never dream of giving you up, all right? You have nothing to worry about. Now go ahead and eat your dinner."

"Thanks, 'cause I'm starving," Ciro replied happily as he grabbed his fork and tore into the food, feeling an immeasurable amount of relief at finding out that his earlier suspicions were wrong.

"Well, Ciro, I'm planning on going fishing this weekend. Still want to go?" Emilio asked his son, eager to change the subject.

The kitten nearly dropped his fork. He stared at his father for a moment, eyes wide. "Really? I can go?"

"If you want to," Emilio answered with a smile. The kitten practically bounced out of his seat in excitement.

"Yes! I wanna go!"

"All right, then."

"Yes! Finally!" Ciro cheered. Once his excitement settled down, he was able to focus on devouring his dinner once again.

Once dinner was over and Ciro had been excused from the kitchen, both Catalina and Emilio shared looks of concern. "What else do you think he heard?" Catalina asked the tuxedo cat, keeping her voice low.

"I don't think he knows, Cat, otherwise he would have asked about that. Clearly he just heard bits and pieces of our discussion and got the wrong idea. But you _know _you're going to have to tell him here pretty soon. This isn't exactly something we can keep from him. Plus, he's probably going to wonder why you're screaming in agony while shouting every curse and insult under the sun in my face."

Catalina snorted, getting up to clear the table. "I know that, Mr. Sensitivity."

Emilio suddenly grinned. "But you're still going to hold off for as long as possible, aren't you?"

"You got it. I need time to think of what lie I want to tell him when he asks where babies come from. You can help me come up with ideas."

Emilio laughed.

"Well, you _know _he's going to ask," the female added. "And I'll leave the 'birds and the bees' speech all for you."

"Thanks," Emilio muttered sarcastically.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope people suddenly haven't become turned off by this story for some reason. The last couple of chapters didn't get quite as many reviews as the first few chapters did, and I always get paranoid when review count drops. I always think it's because the story sucks DX

Oh, I posted the first character profile to my deviantART account, which you can access by clicking on the 'Homepage' link in my profile. I hope to have the next one up soon.


	7. Higher Hurdles

Chapter VII:  
**Higher Hurdles**

Emilio took a trip down memory lane as he watched his son run through the house excitedly, constantly reminding his mother that he was going fishing with his father, while tripping over his own feet every five steps. He remembered being just as excited when he first went fishing with his own father as a kitten.

"Are you ready?" he asked as he reached for the doorknob.

"Yep!"

The kitten darted out the door ahead of his father.

"Ciro, slow down before you trip and fall," Emilio scolded, though the smile was still present. They walked down to the pond, Emilio constantly warning his son to stop running around so much. As energetic as he was at the moment, his father had no idea how the child would be able to hold still for five minutes in order to properly hook a catch.

They found a nice, comfortable spot on the grassy bank, and Emilio instantly went to work at getting the hooks out of his small tackle box. "I'll get you set up first, and then I'll show you how to cast."

"'Kay," Ciro chirped, watching his father's every move with twinkling eyes.

The older cat found a suitable hook and tied it securely to the fishing line. Next he fished a worm out of the tin of worms he had collected and placed it on the hook.

"Why don't I just go ahead and cast for you?" he offered.

Ciro frowned. "But…then it wouldn't count if I caught a fish. It would be _your _fish."

Emilio chuckled. "I said the same thing to my father when he offered to cast for me. All right then, let me show you how to do it."

Grinning, Ciro leaned in as his father showed him how the reel worked. He gave a couple of quick visual demonstrations on how to cast, and then handed the wooden rod over to his son to try. His first cast was a success in the sense that the bait actually made it into the water, though he only managed to cast out a mere five feet compared to his father's fifteen, but considering his size and the fact that it was his first try, it was a perfect execution, and his father patted his head to tell him this.

"All right, now you need to keep an eye on your bobber. It'll tell you whether you have a fish or not. When you see the bobber go under, pull back the rod. That'll hopefully set the hook. But you need to pull back really fast, okay?"

Ciro nodded as he settled himself down into the grass, paw clamped tightly around the rod.

Emilio turned his attention to his own rod and quickly set to work on getting his hook tied and bait set. Right as he was ready to cast his line, he looked over to his son and noticed him staring intently at the bobber.

"Ciro, when I said to not take your eyes off the bobber, I didn't mean you shouldn't _blink._"

"Oh," the kitten replied sheepishly as he allowed himself to blink several times. The older cat stifled a laugh.

"You don't have to stare right at it the entire time, son. Even I can't do that. You just can't get up and move around a lot, otherwise a fish might sneak up on you and drag the entire rod into the water."

"Can they really do that?!" Ciro asked excitedly.

"Sure, if they're big enough."

"Cool! Could they drag _me _in with them?"

Emilio laughed. "Well, I don't know about any fish in _this _pond, but there are certainly plenty of fish out there that could drag you around for miles, or me, or even a human."

"Woah. How big?"

"Well, I've heard of some catfish being close to two hundred pounds."

"Really?" Ciro asked in amazement. His father nodded.

"But I don't think we'll find any that big in this pond and a good thing, too. A fish that big could not only drag you in, but _swallow _you, too. And then they would be calling it a catfish for another reason all together," he added with a chuckle.

"How big are the catfish in _this_ pond?"

"The biggest I ever caught was five pounds. You probably won't catch one, though since you've got a bobber on your line; catfish are bottom feeders. You'll most likely catch a bream."

At that moment, Ciro didn't care _what _he caught as long as he caught something, and after ten minutes, he was already getting antsy. He whimpered as he shifted around in the grass.

"Be patient, mijo."

The kitten whimpered again, ears flattening. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a sudden splash and his father give a triumphant holler. He looked over and noticed his father pulling back on his fishing pole, reeling as fast as he could, eyes wide with excitement.

"Don't take your eyes off your bobber, son!" Emilio said to the youngster, knowing the kitten was watching him intently.

Ciro turned his attention back to the little red bobber, though he continued to glance off and on in his father's direction. He caught a glimpse of the fish as it flopped onto the bank wildly, and he had an instant urge to run over and pounce on it. Emilio's hard, concentrated gaze took on a look of triumph as he managed to get a hold of the fish by the mouth. "Not bad," he said as he removed the hook. "Keep an eye on your line, son, otherwise one might sneak up on you," he told the kitten again, who averted his attention back to the front, giving another whimper of anticipation.

Suddenly, the little, red bobber dipped slightly. Ciro's ears became perfectly erect, and he leaned forward slightly, waiting for the bobber to go under again. This didn't go unnoticed by his father.

"Give it a minute, mijo. He's just browsing right now."

Ciro fidgeted, grip tightening on his rod as the bobber dipped a second time. After a short pause, the bopper completely disappeared beneath the surface.

"Get 'im!" his father shouted excitedly. Ciro jerked back on his rod, practically falling onto his back as he did so. He reeled as fast as he could as though his life depended on it, eyes wide with excitement at having hooked his first catch but also with fear at the thought of losing it before he could reel it in.

As the fish was pulled towards the bank, Emilio had to stifle a laugh when he saw just how big it was, or not so big, rather. Had he been the one to catch the fish, he knew he would have just thrown it back, but Ciro could barely contain himself. He squealed and hollered as he lifted the fish from the water, holding it up for his father to see, smiling from ear to ear. "I got 'im! I got 'im!" he exclaimed, not at all put down by the fish' small size. As far as the youngster could see, he had hooked a shark.

"Nice going, mijo," his father complimented him. He took a hold of the line and brought the still struggling fish his way to remove the hook. He reluctantly reached for the stringer, not quite sure if he'd be able to fit the tiny fish onto the cord. The much larger fish that he had caught moments ago flopped around wildly as it was pulled from the water. He just barely managed to slip the thick needle through the gills of the tiny fish and then placed the stringer back in the water, placing the large rock back on top of it to secure it. "All right, let's get another worm on your hook."

"I'm gonna catch another!" the youngster said once the worm was secured to his hook.

"Now don't get cocky, Ciro. Sometimes you catch 'em, and sometimes you don't. Be happy with what you've got."

The two cats fished well into the afternoon, Emilio catching two more fish of acceptable size. Ciro had managed to hook a second but unfortunately had lost it before he could reel it in, but that didn't hinder the pride he felt towards his first catch, and he couldn't wait to tell his mother of his success.

0ooooooo0

Emilio and Ciro entered through the front door with their bounty. "Mami! Mami!" Ciro called excitedly. "I caught a fish!"

Seconds after father and son entered the home, Catalina emerged from the bedroom, smiling, though Emilio could tell it was forced. "That's great, darling," she said, expressing as much excitement as she could muster.

"Is everything all right?" her husband asked. Catalina met his gaze and her face instantly fell. Before answering, she looked down to her son again.

"Ciro, go outside and play while your father and I get started on lunch."

The kitten's excitement quickly left his face. He looked between his parents, knowing straight away that something was wrong.

"Go ahead," his father urged as he nodded to the door. The kitten obeyed and slowly trudged outside, leaving the two adults alone. Catalina nodded towards the kitchen and the male slowly followed. "What is it?"

"The taxes were collected today."

Emilio furrowed his brows, having expected something out of the ordinary to have occurred. "Well…we were expecting that, weren't we?" he asked as he pulled the cutting board towards him and placed the fresh catch on top of it.

"Yes. But I'm sure we didn't expect them to go _up._"

Emilio turned his head sharply to his wife. "What? They levied the taxes?!"

Catalina nodded.

"I can't believe this. They already levied them not long ago!"

"Well apparently they had so much fun the first time that they decided to have another go at it," Catalina spat angrily. "I'm just glad we weren't that far behind."

Emilio leaned forward, placing both paws on the counter as he tried to digest the news. "Why now?" he asked quietly, shaking his head. "Damn it, when did we up and move to Nottingham?! This means they'll most likely raise them again."

Sighing, Catalina walked over and rested her paw against her mate's arm. "It could be worse," she said.

"If this keeps happening, things _will _get worse! This could very easily have a domino effect. People around here are barely getting by just like us, and if they're always having to pay higher taxes, then that means they might not be purchasing their produce from the farmer's market. This means less profit for the farmer, which could very easily mean less income for us."

"Emilio, people have to eat."

"Well, sure, but people may resort to just growing their own food in order to save as much money as they can."

Catalina moved her paws up to Emilio's shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. "I don't think things are going to get that extreme right this second."

"We don't know that. With more kids on the way, we need all the money we can get right now! If they continue to levy the taxes…I don't even want to know."

"More kids?"

Catalina and Emilio turned, finding their son standing in the entranceway of the kitchen, a mix of worry and confusion etched on his face as he looked between his parents.

"Ciro, we told you to go outside," said Catalina.

A look of frustration came upon the kitten's face. "I'm not stupid, Mami! I know something's wrong."

Emilio walked over and picked up his son, bringing him over to the table. "He's not a baby anymore, Cat," he said as he sat him down in a chair.

"Well, he's _my _baby," the female murmured under her breath. She walked over and had a seat at the head of the table, while Emilio sat across from their son, apprehension in his eyes as he struggled to find the right words.

"Listen, Ciro…your mother is going to have a litter of kittens…and we're both a bit concerned because money is a big issue right now."

"Where do you get the kittens?" Ciro asked, a question both parents had expected to arise at some point and one they had not looked forward to. They had both hoped they would have had more time to prepare for it.

"Well, Ciro, I'm pregnant," --Catalina patted her stomach-- "and that means the kittens are inside me right now."

"How do they get in there?" the kitten asked in bewilderment, finding it incredibly hard to believe that there were kittens just like him inside his mother's stomach. How could they even fit in there?

Catalina nervously looked to her husband, who upon hearing the question, propped his elbows onto the table and buried his face in his paws in embarrassment.

"It's complicated to explain, son," he said, heaving a sigh as he revealed his face again. "But the fact of the matter is this family is about to get bigger, and we're just…worried about the expenses, especially since the taxes have just gone up, and now is the worst time that could have happened."

Curiosity crossed the kitten's face again. "What are taxes?" he asked. He had always heard the word "taxes" thrown around quite often when listening to his parents' conversations but had never bothered to ask what it was.

"Well, it's just a sum of money that we pay annually that helps pay the expenses of the province. It's not something most people enjoy paying, but we have to. But when the taxes go up…" Emilio clenched his teeth as a surge of anger shot through him. "…it can make it hard for a family."

Ciro nodded, seeming to understand. "Who raises them?"

Emilio huffed in disgust as he got to his feet abruptly. "Lord Farquaad."

"Who's that?"

"The Prince John of this province," Emilio spat as he grabbed a large chopping knife and decapitated one of the fish. "It wouldn't surprise me if he kept all the tax payers' money for himself to spend as he pleased. A corrupt bastard is what he is."

Catalina sighed. "Not that I'm necessarily disagreeing with you, but would you please watch your language in front of Ciro?"

Emilio snorted. "You're the one who called his teacher a 'crazy puta', remember?"

Catalina rolled her eyes. "Listen, everything will be all right, baby. We don't want you to worry. This is just a higher hurdle that's going to take a bit of effort to jump," Catalina told her son, reaching over to rub the top of his head.

"What can I do to help?" Ciro asked, his face brightening with enthusiasm, though Catalina looked rather distressed by this question.

"Don't worry about it, mijo. Your father and I can handle things. You don't need to worry about a thing."

He nodded again, staring down at his paws in silence. "Now go back outside and play. We'll call you in when it's time to eat."

The kitten nodded and scooted off the seat, padding out of the kitchen.

"Do you really think things _will _be okay?" Emilio asked, glancing over at his wife with a cocked brow. Catalina ran a paw over her head, sighing in frustration.

"No, Emilio, I _don't _know that. Not anymore. But what am I supposed to say to him? Look at what's happened already. He was willing to skip a meal to save us money! _Him, _the _child, _wanting to make sacrifices for _us._"

"He's mature for his age," Emilio remarked.

"Yes, I know. _Too _mature."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Emilio, I want him to be able to enjoy being young while it lasts. I want him to be carefree like all children. I don't want him constantly worrying about a dim future. But unlike most kids, he understands reality too much. Am I crazy for wishing he _didn't_?"

Emilio set the knife aside. "No, you're not. But here's the way I look at it…if he's this mature now, then imagine when he's an adult. Do you know how many parents would kill for their children to have that much sense of responsibility in their _adult _years?"

Catalina smiled with pride. "We don't deserve him; he's too good for us," she said with a laugh. She got up and walked over to where the bounty of fish had been laid. "So…which one is Ciro's?"

Emilio chuckled as he picked up the tiniest fish of the lot, holding it up for his wife to see, who eyed it skeptically.

"Umm…are you sure that's not the _bait_?"

Emilio laughed even harder. "I know it's small, but he's proud of it."

"Well…I hope it doesn't disappear when I cook it."

Catalina busied herself with making preparations for lunch, while Emilio's mind began to wander back to their previous discussion. He became overwhelmed with dread as he continued to envision a bleak future for his family. A solution came to mind, but he quickly chided himself for even considering it. But as he glanced at his wife, his mind drifted to the precious cargo he knew she was harboring inside of her, and he realized then that he probably didn't have much of a choice.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'd like to thank **yellow 14** and **FluffyBiscuits **for reviewing! And thanks to **DragonballGirl **for faving the story! Please keep the reviews coming! They're a big encouragement.


	8. By Any Means Necessary

Chapter VIII:  
**By Any Means Necessary**

The bed creaked as Emilio shifted his weight continuously, turning from one side to the other in hopes of finding a comfortable position, though deep in his mind he knew the bed was not the reason for his inability to fall asleep. He finally came to rest upon his back, staring up at the ceiling with disdain as his mind raced. He glanced at his mate, his agitation and worry growing as he looked upon her sleeping face.

The black and white cat hauled himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Sitting there for a moment, he stared with a hardened but thoughtful gaze at the wardrobe just a few feet away, images of past adventures flashing through his mind. He glanced back at his wife again, already hearing her disapproving words ringing in his ear. But what choice did he have? His family was in a hole, and he knew that hole was only going to get deeper once the kittens were born.

Emilio got to his feet and walked over to the wardrobe, slipping his paws behind the brass handles and swinging the wooden doors open with ease. He reached in and pulled out the pair of black, leather boots from the floor of the wardrobe. He ran his paw over the red trim, smiling to himself. _Time to come out of retirement _he thought to himself with amusement as he pulled on the first boot. Once both boots were on, Emilio retrieved his leather belt that was draped across two small pegs protruding from the back of the wardrobe. As soon as it was secure around his waist, he next grabbed his cape, swinging it behind him gracefully and securing it around his neck.

The cat paused for a moment as he stared at the hat and sword, the only things remaining inside the wardrobe at that point. It had been almost three years since that sword had last seen a battle, and though the thought of experiencing it again was thrilling, it was also terrifying at the same time, as the circumstances were different. He wasn't doing this for the thrill this time.

Emilio snatched the feathered hat from its hook and placed it atop his head, leaving only the rapier now, which he took more slowly than he did the hat, regarding the weapon with apprehension as well as determination. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and slipped the sword into the slot on his belt. He then turned back to Catalina, his face softening with regret.

"Volveré, mi amor," Emilio whispered into her ear. The female stirred slightly but thankfully did not wake. Emilio smiled at her sadly before slowly turning and walking out of the room. He was prepared to keep walking towards the front door but as soon as he stepped in front of Ciro's bedroom, his stride quickly broke. He knew he had to get one last look at his son's face, as he couldn't be one hundred percent certain that he _would _return, which made him question if this truly _was _the right thing to do, but what other options did they have? One thing he knew was that he would support his family by any means necessary, or die trying.

Pushing the door open, Emilio peaked his head into the room, which was a soft, blue hue, courtesy of the full moon. There was just enough light in the room that Emilio was able to make out his son's face. He slowly crept towards his bed, wincing as the floor creaked against his weight. He reached out a paw and touched it to the top of the kitten's head, smoothing back his ruffled fur. He leaned down and kissed his head, hoping it would not be his last show of love.

Emilio pulled away and slowly made his way out the door, unaware as a pair of eyes opened to watch him make his leave. Once he was out of the room, Ciro sat up and climbed out of the bed, toddling over to the doorway and peaking his head out into the hall. He glanced to his right just as his father closed the front door behind him. The kitten padded down the hall while questions about his father's intentions filled his head. He knew his father wasn't just stepping outside for a quick breath of fresh air. Not with a sword at his side.

Coming up on the front door, Ciro pushed himself onto his tip toes and turned the knob. He stepped out onto the concrete step and anxiously looked around, quickly catching sight of his father making his way for the barn. Ciro leapt from the steps and sprinted after the older cat, pushing open the already unlatched gate on the fence and racing over to take cover behind one of the barn doors. He held his breath as he glanced around the door, spotting his father in the process of placing a saddle on their miniature horse. He watched his father's actions momentarily, afraid to reveal himself. But he knew he wasn't going to get his answers by staying hidden.

The kitten stepped out from behind the door and walked into the barn. "Papi?"

His father jumped, nearly dropping the bridle. "Ciro? Why aren't you in bed?" he asked sternly, though his eyes expressed more regret than they did anger.

His son's curiosity slowly morphed into concern. "Where are you going?" he asked quietly.

"Don't worry about it, Ciro. Just go back inside."

The black cat resumed slipping the bridle onto the little horse. Ciro's paws tightened into fists. "You said I'm not a baby anymore!" he protested. Emilio sighed in defeat.

"I did say that, didn't I? I should've known that'd come back to haunt me."

Emilio gestured for his son to come nearer and knelt down to where he was eye level with him. "Listen, Ciro…things are really difficult right now. I'm just not bringing in enough money with working for the farmer. If your mother wasn't pregnant…I probably wouldn't leave, but since we have more kids on the way, it's only going to get harder. Your mother and I never wanted you to worry, but the reality is we're running out of options. That's why I'm leaving to find money. At least enough to get us through these next few months."

"But…where? How?"

Emilio quickly averted his gaze. "Don't worry about that." Looking back at his son, he placed his paws on his shoulders. "Me leaving is going to be really hard on your mother, so I want you to stay by her side as much as possible, all right? She's going to need you for comfort."

The kitten slowly nodded.

"And…" Emilio looked towards the ground, feeling an incredible sense of self-loathing as he thought about the words he was about to say. "If I don't come back…I want you take care of your mother and especially your siblings."

"Why wouldn't you come back?"

Emilio grit his teeth as he fought back tears. "Mijo…I don't want you to think about this. You're still just a child, and the last thing I want to do is impose this kind of responsibility on you…but…I cannot guarantee that I will come back…alive."

Ciro's eyes widened in horror and Emilio quickly grabbed his face in his paws. "I don't want you to think about this, Ciro. I want you to get up each day, expecting me to walk through that door just as I do any other day after working. But I'm telling you this…just in case. I know I'll never forgive myself for asking this of you, son, but I ask it of you because I know how strong you are."

Tears fell from the kitten's eyes and absorbed into his red fur. Seeing this, his father moved his thumbs up to wipe his eyes. "You're the cat of the house now," he said, forcing the best smile he could. Ciro attempted to laugh at this, but it came out as a choked sob. Emilio pulled the kitten against his chest and wrapped his arms around him tightly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe." Emilio pulled back and kissed his son between the eyes, caressing his face with his paw. He rose to his feet and took the reigns of his steed.

"Take care of Papi, Paco," Ciro said to the horse. His father grinned as he lead the horse out of the barn. The kitten slowly followed him out, wiping at his eyes continuously as more tears threatened to fall. He looked up as his father mounted the horse.

"Be good, Ciro."

Emilio made several quick clicking sounds with his tongue and the little horse broke out into a steady walk. Once on the dirt road, the horse was galloping, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. Even after the cat had disappeared into the cover of darkness, Ciro still stood in the front yard, staring after the long trail of stirred dust.

"Bye, Papi," he whispered.

0ooooooo0

Catalina stirred from her slumber, rolling over onto her right side and attempting to drape her arm over her husband's frame, but all she felt in his place was the cold fabric of the bed sheets. His absence quickly brought her into full consciousness and she sat up. "Emilio?"

For a moment, she didn't think much of his absence, but as her eyes drifted over to the open, empty wardrobe, her heart sank. She threw off the covers and stumbled out of the bed, tripping over herself several times as she dashed out of the room. "Emilio?!" she yelled as she raced down the hall. She threw open the front door and ran outside, making her way for the barn. She noted with horror that the gate was open, as were the barn doors. She suppressed the horrifying conclusion the best she could as she ran into the barn, but once she saw that Paco no longer resided in it, that suppression lifted and realization set in.

Catalina slowly backed out of the barn, her paw reaching up to cover her mouth. "Please, no," she whispered, her words slightly muffled against her paw. She turned and ran back to the cottage, lightheadedness setting in. As soon as she stepped into the doorway, she spotted Ciro's head poking out from his bedroom, his green eyes fixated on her with intense concern, as well as a look of knowing.

"Come here, Ciro," she said gently, gesturing for her son to come over to her. The kitten reluctantly stepped out of his room and slowly approached his mother, head downcast. Catalina knelt down and placed one paw on his shoulder, lifting his chin with her other paw. "Do you know where your father went?" she asked as calmly as she could, though her voice was shaky.

The child tried to look away, but his mother held a firm grip on his chin, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. "Yes," he said meekly. "He left last night. He said he had to leave to find money."

Catalina bit her tongue as she was met with the urge to question her son as to why he didn't stop him. It was absurd for her to even think that the child had any way of preventing him from leaving. There was nothing _either _of them could have done to stop him.

The female slowly rose to her feet and walked past her son, keeping the back of her paw placed against her mouth and nose as she tried to will away her overwhelming grief, eyes shut tightly as tears made their escape. She could vaguely hear her son's voice behind her, but she couldn't make sense of what he was saying. She entered the bedroom and nearly collapsed onto the bed as her legs took on the feeling of rubber. She buried her face in her paws and allowed the dam of emotions to break. Her body shook with violent sobs as the horrifying thought of never seeing her husband again plagued her mind, as well as the thought of her future children growing up without a father.

"Mami?"

Catalina's head shot up as the voice broke her out of her pained thoughts. Tears still fell from her eyes, but she had managed to restrain herself from sobbing for a brief moment as she gazed upon her son, her anguish still evident, of course. She bent down and scooped him into her arms, pulling him tightly against her chest and nuzzling his face.

"It's okay, Mami," the kitten tried to reassure, though his voice was beginning to crack under his own grief, which he wasn't sure was due to his father's absence, or seeing his mother so distraught. Seeing his mother cry was a rare sight, and it was not one he was used to. All he knew was that his father had told him to stay by his mother's side and comfort her in any way that he could, which he intended to do.

0ooooooo0

Six hours into the day, and Catalina was certain she was going to have a mental breakdown. She didn't know where Emilio had gone specifically, but she didn't think he would be home that night. If he _did _come back, it probably wouldn't be for a couple of days, but it already felt as though it had been days since he left. Though she wanted to see him walk through the front door unharmed, she also couldn't wait to let him have it for leaving in the first place, and she still wasn't sure how she was going to go about doing that. She highly considered getting a piece of paper and jotting down a few choice words for him once he returned.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Catalina lifted her paw up to her face and rolled out her tongue to bathe herself. She licked the side of her paw and then brought it up to clean her face. She ceased bathing when she heard the soft sound of feet padding into the room. She looked over and saw the top of Ciro's head, which was just barely visible above the bed. She smiled as she reached over the side of the bed and picked him up. Once the kitten was settled comfortably next to his mother, he worriedly glanced up at her, leaning his head against her shoulder.

"Are you still worried about Papi?"

"Of course, baby. It's all I can do to keep from going out of my mind. He better not get killed out there, otherwise it'll take all the fun out of me strangling him until his eyes pop out of his skull." Catalina glanced down at her son. "Sorry, I shouldn't talk like that in front of you."

"Well…you're just joking, right?"

Catalina glanced towards the wall, muttering, "Maybe." She sighed, pulling Ciro closer against her. "I know I shouldn't just assume the worst…and I know your father is doing this with the best of intentions. After all, we don't know how big this litter is going to be. The more kittens we have, the harder it'll be to meet expenses."

"Maybe you'll only have one," said Ciro. Catalina chuckled.

"That's not likely, mijo."

"But…_I _was an only kitten_._"

Catalina looked at the kitten again, her expression changing dramatically.

"What's wrong?" her son asked, his expression taking on a dramatic change as well as his mother regarded him with a look of sorrow, as well as apprehension. Her face fell even more as she slipped her paws under his arms and heaved him up onto her stomach to where he was facing her.

"I think it's time I told you this. I wanted to avoid talking to you about it for as long as possible because it's difficult for me…but you deserve to know." Catalina took a deep breath. "Remember a while back when you were playing outside…and you asked us about the graves?"

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me about the little ones. You said you'd wait until I was older to tell me."

"Si, I know. The truth is…when you were born, you were actually part of a litter of three; you were the last one born and before you, you had a brother and a sister. But…they died shortly after birth."

"Why?" Ciro asked quietly.

"I don't know why, darling. These things just happen sometimes. Nature isn't always fair, mijo." Catalina took another quivering breath. "You were honestly the smallest of the litter; we thought for sure you wouldn't pull through, either. But the minutes turned into hours, and you were still clinging to life, so _we_ clung on to hope that you would beat the odds. We stayed up all night long with you, never taking our eyes off you for a second…and you made it through the night. You were a born fighter."

Catalina caressed the top of the kitten's head, smiling. "As devastated as I was to lose your brother and sister, I was so grateful that I still had you."

Catalina sighed sadly as she averted her gaze for a moment, recanting the memories of her first pregnancy. "And though your brother and sister were only on this earth for such a short time, I still felt they needed to be given names, so I named your brother Octavio after my grandfather, who I really looked at as a father figure since my own father died when I was about your age. And I named your sister Marisol after my mother, who was a very big role model to me."

It was Ciro who averted his attention this time, looking down at his mother's stomach, trying to digest what he had just learned.

"I didn't tell you the truth not just because it was difficult for me but also because I wasn't certain you'd really understand. Death can be a difficult concept for a young one to grasp."

Ciro slowly looked up again. "Are you scared it'll happen again?"

"You mean am I afraid this litter will die?" The female sighed. "Yes. That's been my biggest fear. That and not having the money to actually care for them."

Ciro looked down at his mother's stomach again, trying to picture his future siblings in his mind and how many there'd be. He smiled suddenly, looking back up at his mother. "I think they'll be okay."

"You think so?"

"Yep. I can feel it."

Catalina pulled the kitten closer, wrapping her arms around his small frame and smiling. "I trust your instinct."

Ciro smiled before started to climb down from the bed, but his mother grabbed him and pulled him back. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked with a smirk. "I think it's time you had a bath."

Ciro groaned as he tried to worm his way out of his mother's arms. Catalina held him firmly in place as she licked his face. "Let go, Mami! I'm not dirty!"

Catalina snorted. "You're a child. By definition, therefore, not clean. So hold still."

"I can do it myself!" the child squealed, still attempting to make his escape.

"And you'll do a poor job. This way I know you'll be clean." The mother yanked the kitten back against her chest as he lurched forward suddenly. He whimpered in disappointment. "It's either a bath or we can get started early on that math assignment. How does _that _sound?"

"I'll take the bath," Ciro mumbled.

0ooooooo0

There was a sudden, bright flash of lightening, and within the seconds that followed it, thunder clapped loudly, rattling the entire cottage. The rain poured loudly, spraying against the windows with the aide of the strong wind. Catalina sat with both elbows placed on the table, paws laced together and resting against her mouth. As loud as the storm was, she barely acknowledged it, as her racing thoughts were of a much louder racket.

It had now been two days since Emilio had left, and her concern for his well-being had increased greatly. She had probably only gotten four hours of sleep total in the time he had been away, and eating a decent meal was just as much of a challenge, as her appetite had left her.

Feeling a presence at her side, she turned her attention towards the floor, finding Ciro looking up at her worriedly. "Ciro, what are you doing up? You should be in bed."

"The thunder's too loud; I can't sleep."

Catalina mentally slapped herself, having hardly noticed the severe weather going on right outside their home. "All right, then," she said as she bent down to pick up the child, placing him on her lap. "You can keep me company," she added, smiling gently.

The kitten leaned his head against his mother's chest, whimpering. "I miss Papi," he said.

"So do I," his mother replied shakily. They both listened to the storm in silence, taking comfort in each other's company.

It was then that the sound of a door opening and closing could just barely be heard amongst the pouring rain. Both Catalina and Ciro turned their heads sharply towards the doorway, hearts in their throats. They both held their breath as a feline, soaked with rain, stepped into the doorway. He looked up for a moment, but then quickly looked back down at the floor as he stepped into the kitchen. Droplets of rain fell from the brim of his hat, which currently shielded his eyes from view. His black fur glistened with rain, and he appeared to be shivering slightly.

Catalina slowly rose to her feet, setting Ciro down on the floor.

"Papi!" Ciro cried as he ran over to the dripping wet cat and embraced him. Emilio only smiled half-heartedly, patting the youngster's head. He spared another glance at his wife, whose expression was hard to discern. She slowly approached the boot and hat-clad cat, who finally lifted his head to completely meet her penetrating gaze.

"Hello, Catalina," he said quietly as he removed his hat from his head, his tone apologetic. There was a short pause before Catalina drew back her paw and struck her husband across the face, an action that caused Ciro to take a few steps back, cringing. Emilio sighed, turning his face back around to his wife again. "I guess I had that coming."

"Damn you, Emilio!" the female shrieked, voice cracking. "I thought you were dead!"

"Cat, please calm down."

Catalina drew in quick, quivering breaths, eyes becoming misty as she tried to keep her emotions in check, which were a jumbled mess. She slowly leaned in, resting her head against Emilio's chest.

"It's all right," he said as he wrapped an arm around her. "Come on, come sit down." He led Catalina back over to the table, nodding for her to sit down in a chair. Once she was sitting down, Emilio pulled his paw out from behind his back, and in his grasp was a large, bulging sack. He grunted as he heaved the sack up and dropped it onto the table.

"Woah," Ciro whispered as he climbed up into one of the chairs to get a better look at the sack. Catalina covered her mouth with both paws, eyes wide.

"Where did you get all this?" she said breathlessly.

"Not important," Emilio stated quickly. Catalina's eyes narrowed as she looked between the sack and her husband.

"How much is it?"

"Enough. It'll last us well after the kittens are born."

These words brought little relief to Catalina. All she could think of was _where _the money had come from. "Where did you get it?" she tried again, sending her mate a warning glare.

"Don't worry about it," he said as he reached over and took the sack in his grasp, carrying it out of the kitchen.

"Stay here," Catalina said to Ciro as she quickly got to her feet and followed after the retreating feline. She marched down the hallway and entered the bedroom, finding her husband in the process of removing his clothes. "Where did you get it?" she repeated.

Emilio rolled his eyes as he put his hat away into the wardrobe. "I told you not to worry about it. It's not important."

Catalina shut the bedroom door and took a step towards the male. "All right, then, if I shouldn't worry about it, then why the hell won't you tell me where you got the money?"

"Why can't you just drop it?"

"I'll tell you what I'd like to drop right about now: a two ton boulder on your head!"

"Really, Cat, why do you need to know?!"

Catalina exhaled as she took another step towards her husband, bringing her face close to his. "Because I don't want to be lying in this bed in the middle of the night, fearing that the Knights are going to tear this house apart and drag us away in shackles!" she hissed. "For Grimm's sake, Emilio, there's a child in this house!"

Emilio gently placed his paws on his wife's shoulders, looking intently into her tawny eyes. "That isn't going to happen. I assure you, it won't."

Catalina wrenched herself out of the black and white cat's grasp, shooting him an icy glare as she turned for the door. "I certainly hope so."

With that, she exited the bedroom, slamming the door as she went.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Big thanks to all those who reviewed! And thanks to **Cardog 24 **for faving the story!

Happy holidays!


	9. Welcome Víctor and Benito

Chapter IX:  
**Welcome Víctor and Benito**

Emilio stepped outside, taking in a breath of fresh air, which was a bit cool after the downpour of rain the previous night. He walked around to the left side of the cottage where he knew Catalina's garden resided. Sure enough, he found her down in the dirt, tending to her flowers as vigorously as ever. No doubt he knew that she was just trying to keep busy in order to avoid talking to him.

"Cat-"

"Save it," the female cut him off sharply, attention still on her flowers. She dug a small hole with her trowel and planted a few seeds before then covering them with dirt. She next grabbed a pair of clippers and trimmed away the dead and wilted parts of various plants, never once looking her husband's way.

"Why can't we talk about this?"

The black and white cat came over and had a seat on the ground. "Cat, I know you're upset. I hated leaving, but we needed the money."

"At what cost, Emilio?!" Catalina shouted as she stabbed the dirt with the clippers, finally turning to face the male.

"Cat, we have other priorities coming," he said, nodding towards his wife's stomach. "I want to be able to provide for them! I want them to have a decent life!"

"Even if that means them growing up without a father?"

"I'm still here, Cat."

"But for how long?! If you keep going out there and pulling stupid stunts, how long is it going to be before you wind up killed or arrested?!"

"It's not like I'm doing this for the thrill, Cat! What other choice do I have?! It's my job to support this family!"

"Woah, woah, excuse me?" Catalina protested, holding up a paw. "_Your _job? Oh, I'm sorry. I must have missed the memo that said it wasn't _my _job, too. In case you've forgotten, this is my family, too. We _both _support this family." Catalina shrugged as she added, "I could maybe find work."

"You don't have to work."

Catalina grit her teeth. "Which is just a nice way of saying I _shouldn't _work. Why? Because I'm a woman? Are you saying it's not right for the little bitty wife to pull in a decent income?"

Emilio smacked his forehead. "Cat, please don't start. Everything's fine now, all right?"

"For now! What happens when we're running low on money again? Are you going to run off in the middle of the night and scare the living hell out of our children again?"

Emilio looked away, unable to bring himself to answer. Catalina turned her attention back to the ground, remaining silent for a moment. "I don't want Ciro to do this," she finally stated calmly, shaking her head. Emilio's brows knitted together in confusion.

"Do what?"

"You know what! The tradition, Emilio! I don't want him to do it! I practically went out of my mind while you were gone! I don't want to go through that again!"

Emilio sighed, running a paw over his head. "You were the one who didn't want me to decide for him whether he was even going to carry on the tradition. You wanted him to make the decision for himself. Now how is telling him he can't do it any different than me telling him he _has_ to?"

Catalina grit her teeth, realizing he was right. "Fine," she growled. "But I'm staying on the opposing team."

Emilio smiled, moving in to rub his head affectingly against hers. "Everything will be just fine," he said. He then tilted her head up and planted a soft kiss to her lips.

"Don't try to butter me up," she said as she slowly pulled away. "Besides, there's been a lot of changes since you left."

"Oh really? Like what?" Emilio asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I have a new lover now."

"Hmm…What's his name?"

"Raul."

"But of course. It's _always_ a Raul, isn't it?"

"Yes, and he was planning on coming over for dinner tonight, but since you're here, it might be a bit awkward."

Emilio gave a hardy laugh. "Now see, you're joking with me, so I know you can't still be _that _angry."

"How can you be so sure that I'm joking?" Catalina shot back playfully.

"Oh, come on," Emilio said as he took the female into a tight embrace. She sighed, leaning her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry I took a swing at you last night."

"I didn't even know you had it in you," Emilio replied, chuckling.

Catalina glanced down at the flower bed. "Let's go inside. I've done all I think I can handle today."

0ooooooo0

_One month later…_

Emilio panted profusely as he worked his way through the wheat field, oddly working faster than the rest of the workers dotting the large field. The cat never thought he'd be more grateful for the work. Keeping busy was the only thing he could rely on to keep his thoughts from wandering, which they had been doing a lot lately. Though they had a hefty sum stashed away now for when the family needed it, it didn't quite water down his worries as well as he'd hoped it would. But he figured it was inevitable.

Emilio swung the scythe in a quick, fluid motion, cutting the batch of wheat without error. Normally it was difficult for him and took two or three tries due to his small stature and the size of the tool, but today there was hardly ever a hitch in the process.

A shadow suddenly loomed overhead, and Emilio could tell instantly by the shape that it was the farmer. "Yes?" Emilio managed to ask through his heavy breathing.

"My goodness, you sound like you're about to have a heart attack."

"I feel like it, too."

"Haven't you had a break yet?"

"Nope," Emilio answered, swinging the scythe again.

"Well you better take one now before you pass out and impale yourself on that damn thing."

"I'll be fine."

"That wasn't a suggestion, that was an order."

Emilio sighed and let the scythe fall to the ground. Turning, he noticed the farmer holding a glass of water. He muttered a quick "Thanks" when the farmer reached it down to him. Both human and cat made their way over to the cart which harbored the freshly cut wheat. Emilio leaned against the wheel, shoving the glass in his face and allowing some of the water to splash against him as he drank the rest. Normally he was okay with being wet as long as his face stayed dry, but today was one of those rare exceptions.

"All right, what's on your mind?" asked the farmer.

"What makes you think there's something on my mind?"

"'Cause, son, you've been hackin' away at that wheat like it was your worst enemy."

Emilio just shrugged, gulping down more of the water.

"This about your wife being pregnant? She hasn't had the litter by any chance, has she?"

"No. It'll be about another month before she's due."

"Ah. Couldn't remember when you said what the time of conception was. But am I right? Is that what's on your mind?"

Emilio sighed. "Yes."

The farmer nodded in understanding. "That's what I figured."

"Even having one child was a risk. That pregnancy wasn't planned, either." Emilio downed the rest of the water. "My biggest concern has always been being able to provide for them."

"That's every father's concern."

"Yes…and now it's only been made worse. We don't know how big this litter will be. I want to be excited. I want to look forward to this, but all I can think of is how much I wish I could go back in time and prevent it from happening. That's a pretty horrible thing to think, isn't it?"

"No. What would be horrible is a father who didn't care at all, but your problem is that you care too much. You aren't going to be perfect at what you do. No one is. But your kids aren't going to look for perfection. Forgive my sappiness, but all they'll want is your love, and I can tell that's one thing you'll always be able to provide. You should thank your lucky stars for these kids, son. I'd give anything to have one of my own."

Emilio glanced up at the man curiously. "You never had children?"

The man shook his head. "And it had nothing to do with money. My wife and I both wanted children more than anything…but we later found out that she was barren."

Emilio looked to the ground. "Oh."

The farmer nodded solemnly. "You don't know how lucky you are. If I had the choice between living a life of luxury without kids and living a low class life _with_ kids, I'd gladly take the poor life."

"But then what if you couldn't feed your kids?" Emilio protested. "_That _is my biggest concern. This isn't about me not being able to give them the material possessions they want. I want to be able to keep them healthy."

"You ain't gotta worry about that. I'll always be around if you need help. Don't be afraid to ask. In the mean time, you just focus on making sure your wife knows you're behind her, and then be prepared to shower those kids with love."

Emilio sighed, nodding twice. "Gracias, James."

0ooooooo0

Stepping into the cottage, Emilio heard the sound of cooking utensils rattling around in the kitchen. It was almost five o' clock, so there was no doubt Catalina was getting everything prepared to make dinner. Emilio stepped into the kitchen and sauntered up behind the female without her noticing. She jumped when she felt his arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Don't scare me like that. Any sudden movements and these kids might come flying out of me like a cannon ball."

"Sorry," Emilio mumbled into his wife's ear, nuzzling his head against hers. Catalina cocked a brow at the male's sudden display of affection, turning her head around slightly to get a look at him.

"Are you drunk?"

Emilio pulled away slightly. "Drunk? Why on Earth would you ask me that?"

"Well…I don't know. You're just awfully affectionate today, and you seem to be in a good mood, and you _haven't _been in a good mood for a while now."

Emilio sighed. "Yes, I know. And I think I should apologize for the way I've been acting…with the pregnancy and everything. I've acted like it was the end of the world for us, and if anything, it should be something to celebrate, not dread."

Catalina blinked. "What made you do a one eighty all of a sudden?"

"James sort of put things into perspective for me."

"Mmm."

"It's just sometimes I worry too much about what might be. I know everything can't always be perfect. And I wasn't trying to make things hard, I just-"

Catalina quickly put a paw to her mate's lips. "I know," she said. "It's not like I haven't been scared, either. But…you just have to roll with it. You know the old saying: 'What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger'." Catalina smiled softly as she leaned her head against her mate's, arousing a purr from the male. He pushed his head against Catalina's, rotating it around and nuzzling the side of her face. He pulled her closer as he snaked his arms around her back, gently nipping at her ear.

Catalina wiggled herself out of her husband's arms. "All right, paws off. Don't get _too _affectionate. I'm in no condition for that, remember? Wait for the buns to come out of the oven first before you try to put in the breadstick."

Emilio made a face. "And to think I kiss that mouth." He shook his head, leaning against the table. "Have you thought of any names for the kittens yet?"

Catalina shrugged. "I've been considering a few, but it's hard to pick when I don't even know how many kids I'm going to have." Catalina started to reach for the large cooking pot, but Emilio quickly went over to snatch it from her.

"I'm going to need that, you know."

"I'm making dinner tonight."

Catalina bit back a chortle. "I was right, you _are _drunk."

"What? You think I can't cook?"

"Never said that. I just know you can't compare to a master chef such as myself."

"I'm going to make you eat those words."

Catalina shrugged, replying, "Okay. Just _don't_ make me eat whatever abomination you're about to put in that pot."

Emilio turned to the female, eyes narrowed. "You like pushing my buttons, don't you?" he asked with a grin.

"It's what I live for."

Emilio snorted, gazing down into the pot. "So what was it you were planning on making?"

"Stew."

"Ah. Piece of cake."

0ooooooo0

_Three weeks later…_

Ciro stared up at his mother with pleading eyes as she pulled a tray of cookies out of the brick oven. "Ciro, they'll spoil your dinner," she said as she placed the tray atop a cooling rack on the table.

"Just one?"

"Oh, all right. Just one, though." Catalina plucked a cookie off of the tray, wincing slightly. "Careful, though, they're still a bit hot." She handed the cookie over to the young cat, who yelped in pain the second he attempted to take it. "Told you," his mother said with a laugh. Ciro shook his paw and took the cookie again, moving it from one paw to the other to keep from getting burnt.

"Gracias," he said as he made his way out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, taking careful bites out of the cookie. He suddenly dropped the cookie when he heard his mother cry out in pain, which was promptly followed by the sound of a glass breaking against the floor. He quickly turned and dashed back into the kitchen, finding his mother holding on to the back of the chair while her other paw grasped at her stomach.

"C-Ciro," she gasped, wincing in pain. "Go get your father."

"Are you okay?" he asked in alarm, making his way over to his mother in an attempt to help her, being careful not to step in the broken glass and spilt milk.

"Just go get your father," she repeated a bit more urgently. "Tell him it's time. Go! Hurry!"

Ciro ran out of the kitchen and threw open the front door. "Papá!" he cried repeatedly as he sprinted towards the fence. He saw his father just on the other side, running an elongated brush across Paco's back.

"What's wrong?" the elder cat asked as he glanced worriedly at his son.

"Papá, it's time!" he replied quickly, which instantly sent the older cat into a panicked frenzy.

"Oh, no," he said, dropping the brush. He scrambled towards the gate, almost forgetting to close it back and lock it as he went. He ran ahead of his son, stumbling through the front door and calling out to his wife.

"In here!" he heard her call back to him, her voice expressing obvious pain. He spotted her in the kitchen, both paws clasping the back of one of the kitchen chairs as she inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Cat, are you sure it's time?" Emilio asked as he placed a paw to her back. The red cat rolled her eyes at the question.

"No, Emilio, I'm sure it's just indigestion," she growled, claws digging into the wood of the chair.

"All right, come on. Aren't you a bit early?"

"Just a few days," Catalina gasped. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Emilio took his wife by the shoulders and led her out of the kitchen and towards their bedroom. "Go in there and lie down on the bed. I'll be in in a minute."

Catalina just nodded as she continued on towards the bedroom, keeping one paw on the wall for support.

"Ciro, go outside and get a bucket of water from the well! You don't need to fill it up all the way! Just gather enough to soak a washcloth in!" Emilio called back to his son.

The youngster nodded and headed back outside. Meanwhile, Emilio turned his attention to the hall closet where they stored their blankets for the winter months. He sorted through all of them, picking out what he knew wouldn't matter getting bloody. He then made a quick dash back into the kitchen and grabbed a rag off the counter. As he started to make his way for the bedroom, he heard Ciro re-enter the house.

"Here, give me the water," he said eagerly as he reached out his free paw. Ciro handed the bucket off to his father and the older cat quickly made his way into the bedroom. Ciro followed closely behind, eager to lend his assistance, but his father quickly turned around and bent down to place his paws on his shoulders, urging him back out of the room.

"Just wait out here, son."

"But-"

"Wait out here. I'll take care of everything."

Before Ciro could protest a second time, his father promptly shut the bedroom door, which he stared at for a long while. Eventually he made his way towards the living room to wait, not knowing what else to do. He climbed onto the couch and leaned his head against the arm rest. It wasn't long after this that the young cat heard loud screaming from the bedroom. His head shot up in alarm, eyes fearful. He yearned to aide his mother in any way possible. He couldn't bear to just sit there and do nothing when he knew she was in pain, but he figured if he was needed, his father would come and get him.

As the screams continued, Ciro curled up into a ball, covering his ears with his paws in a futile attempt to keep the heart-wrenching screams at bay. Not knowing what else to do to drown out his mother's screaming, he began to hum loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began to well. When the screaming had ceased momentarily, Ciro would think it was over and done with, but it was only minutes before it continued again. Eventually it became too much for him to bear, and he scurried outside as quickly as he could. He ran towards the fence, unlatching the gate with a shaky hand. He made his way for the barn, certain that he wouldn't be able to hear his mother from there.

Once he entered the musky-scented barn, he spotted Paco just a few feet away, busily eating away at the hay strewn about on the ground. Whimpering, Ciro had a seat against the wall of the barn. Paco slowly turned and approached him, pressing his snout into the cat's chest. Ciro smiled softly as he ran his paw over the little horse's nose. Sighing, he crawled over to a small pile of hay and laid down. He giggled when the horse approached him again and snorted into his ear. "I'm going to sleep, Paco. Don't mistaken me for the hay, all right?"

With a sigh, the young cat closed his eyes. As he tried to will himself to sleep, he was plagued by the thought of his siblings not surviving long beyond their birth. Though he had told his mother just two months prior that he was certain the kittens would be just fine, he knew he couldn't be sure. If it happened before, it could happen again, and knowing he himself had been an inch away from death made him all the more fearful. But soon those thoughts died away as the cat drifted off to sleep. When he finally awoke, it was to the gentle shaking of his father, who he could just barely make out through bleary eyes.

"Wake up, mijo," he said gently, helping the youngster to sit up, though he had to quickly catch him when he started to fall over. He picked him up in his arms and cradled him against his chest as he carried him out of the barn.

"Is Mami okay?" Ciro mumbled sleepily, eyes drifting shut again.

"She's fine."

Ciro started to ask about his siblings but as he opened his mouth, his words were lost in a wide yawn. When he felt himself being placed onto a bed, he slowly started to come around, finding his mother sitting right next to him, a wet rag resting against her forehead and two little bundles cradled in both arms. He sat up instantly to get a better look at the newborns.

"Why were you in the barn, baby?" Catalina asked, eying her son curiously.

"I didn't like hearing you scream."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm fine. It's supposed to hurt, unfortunately. Oh…and speaking of pain, how's your paw, Emilio?" Catalina asked with a smirk as she glanced at her husband, who was currently flexing his fingers.

"Starting to get some feeling back. And the bleeding stopped, too."

Catalina laughed, looking down at the bundles in her arms. "Ciro, these are your brothers, Víctor and Benito," she said, nodding to each kitten as she named them. "And they tried to kill me." The kittens squealed loudly, squirming within the blankets wrapped snugly around their tiny frames. They certainly sounded healthy.

"Why are their eyes closed?" Ciro asked curiously.

"Kittens are always born with their eyes closed. Your eyes were closed when you were born, too."

"How will they see?"

"Well, I'll be watching them intently until they open their eyes. They won't even be able to really walk for a couple of weeks anyway."

"When will their eyes open?"

"In about a week. But even after they open, their vision still isn't going to be that good, so we all need to keep a close eye on them until their vision has fully developed."

"Can I hold one?"

Catalina looked from the newborns over to Emilio.

"I think it'd be okay," he said. He leaned over the bed and carefully took Víctor from his wife's arm. He gingerly handed the kitten over to Ciro, who cradled the bundle against his chest. No longer in his mother's grasp, the kitten began to squeal loudly.

"I don't think he likes me," said Ciro, frowning.

Catalina chuckled. "No, it's not you. They're just going to be attached to me for a while. They'll come around. They don't like your father too much right now, either," she added, smirking at her husband.

Ciro handed his brother back over to his father, who then returned him to Catalina. The kitten's squealing died down once he was secure in his mother's arms again.

"Are you ready for the responsibility of being a big brother?" Catalina asked, smiling at her eldest son.

Ciro nodded, smiling.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I got quite a few for the last chapter! Please keep 'em coming. Also thanks to **NSValleyGirl **for faving the story!

And to answer your question, **the shadow, **yes, there will be an antagonist in this story. But I'm not going to give out any details regarding him or how everything will play out. And I'll get to Ciro's training soon. It'll probably be around chapter 13 before that starts. Emilio still has to introduce the tradition to him.

Happy New Year!


	10. Traditions

Chapter X:  
**Traditions**

The first several days after the kittens' birth were the most stressful. The youngsters constantly needed attending to and hardly ever slept. Catalina couldn't be by their side every minute of the hour, and so Emilio and Ciro had to stay with them whenever she was away, even for a short while, which the kittens did not like one little bit. Though as they grew more and more used to their brother and father's scent, they gradually stopped making such a fuss whenever they came into their care.

Eight days after birth, and Benito's eyes slowly cracked open first, and the day after that, Víctor's finally opened as well, though their ears were not yet erect and wouldn't be for about another week or more.

Ciro had done well in handling the responsibility of taking care of his brothers, and he never once complained when his mother needed his help, but even so, he couldn't help the jealousy he felt at seeing them get all his mother's attention. He kept it to himself, of course, fearing his mother would be ashamed of him if she knew.

Ciro sat alone in the backyard, poking at an anthill with a stick. It was getting to be late in the day, and he figured he'd need to come inside for dinner soon.

Suddenly he heard the backdoor open, but he didn't bother to turn around. "Ah, there you are," he heard his father say.

"Hey," Ciro said with little enthusiasm, ceasing his destruction on the anthill.

"What's the matter?" his father asked as he knelt down beside him.

Ciro shook his head. "You'd be angry if I told you."

Emilio's brow furrowed, but then realization quickly set in. "Let me guess…are you feeling a bit put out by all the attention your brothers are getting?"

Ciro snapped his head around to stare at his father, eyes wide with surprise. "How did you know?"

"Well, son, it's perfectly normal. It was bound to happen sooner or later. But just understand that your brothers require a lot of care right now. Your mother isn't purposely ignoring you."

Ciro nodded.

Emilio put his paw on the younger cat's shoulder. "Come on, I think it's time I told you about something." He nodded for Ciro to follow him, getting up and walking over to the small, stone temple that sat away from the cottage. As they stepped through the archway, Ciro became confused.

"You already showed this to me."

"Si, I told you this temple was built by your great grandfather in your great, great, great grandfather's honor, but I never really told you the entire story behind it all, nor the hat and boots."

"You said they belonged to Grandpa Pedro," replied Ciro, momentarily looking away from his father to stare up at the large painting of his great, great, great grandfather that hung on the stone wall.

"Yes, I know, but there's a lot you don't know."

Ciro looked back over to his father, now curious.

Emilio looked up at the painting this time. "It was this cat who you see in this painting that started a tradition. He came from a family of immigrants; they journeyed here from Spain. As poor as they were, they were unable to look after their children. Your great, great, great grandfather, Pedro, was given to an old miller. For several years, Pedro lived life as a normal house cat, chasing mice and rats and living the life that is expected of a cat. But as time passed, the miller became ill and eventually passed on, leaving Pedro to his youngest son.

"Pedro took it upon himself to help his master obtain great fortune. He sought a pair of leather boots and a hat and found a large sack, which he used to capture vast amounts of game, all of different species. And he took that game and presented it to the king, telling him it had been a gift from his master, who he had given a new name. Not long after this, he concocted a plan for his master to meet the king after having learned that the king and the princess were to be traveling by carriage along the river bank. So Pedro told his master to go bathe in the river." Emilio paused for a second and chuckled. "Of course his master didn't have the faintest idea what he was intending to do.

"Pedro took his master's peasant garb and hid it under a stone, and then when he saw the king's carriage approaching, he started shouting that his master was drowning. After the king's escorts had helped his master out of the river, Pedro informed the king that he had been robbed of his clothing, and so he was presented with new clothes fit for royalty."

Emilio paused again briefly, taking a moment to smile at the clear curiosity and wonderment in the younger cat's eyes.

"Leaving his master with the king and princess, Pedro went out on his own, coming upon a group of peasants working in a field. He had convinced all the peasants in the field to tell the king that said fields belonged to his master if he should ask them who they belong to, and they did. And as he continued on his way, he discovered an impressive castle, which he had heard belonged to a powerful, shape-shifting ogre, who reigned over the land and was feared by all. Pedro actually tricked the ogre into turning into a mouse…and he gobbled him right up."

"Really?" Ciro asked in amazement. Emilio nodded.

"Yes, and the ogre's castle became his master's, who was soon married to the king's daughter. They became great rulers of the land, and Pedro became a well-respected member of their council, always being addressed as the Master Cat. As the years progressed, Pedro took an interest in fencing. He spent months mastering the art, and there came a time when he decided to bid his master farewell and depart on his own adventures. Everywhere he went, he was always referred to as 'The puss in boots'. Along the way he met and fell in love with a lady cat, your great, great, great grandmother, Maria, and settled down with a family. It was on his death bed that his eldest son, Carlos told him he would keep the name, 'Puss In Boots' alive."

"So you carried on the name, too?"

"Yes, I did. I am the fifth. But I retired about a year ago, though I knew there would come a time when I'd need to temporarily come _out _of retirement. Life is never easy, after all, and drastic times call for drastic measures."

"Why did you stop?"

"Well, Ciro, when I met your mother, things changed. And when you were born, things _really _changed. I couldn't be out there, running around like a wild cat anymore. I had bigger priorities. But it did feel good to wear the boots again."

Emilio reached down and rubbed the top of his son's head.

"So, how would you like to be the sixth?"

Ciro's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes. It's a tradition, after all."

Ciro's face fell as he looked up at the painting again. "But…everything Grandpa Pedro did was a lie. He just tricked people. Isn't that wrong?"

"Well, son, Grandpa Pedro never used his trickery on those less fortunate. He always believed in _helping _the less fortunate, and he never saw the world as being black and white. He always tried to bring wealth to those who deserved it, even if it meant through methods that society generally felt were wrong. The great Robin Hood himself sort of adopted Pedro's way of thinking."

"I don't know," Ciro sighed, looking towards the floor. Emilio knelt down and lifted his chin up.

"Listen, son, if it's any conciliation, there's no criteria you have to adhere to in order to carry on this tradition. There's no rules you must follow. Once you dawn the hat and boots, _you _make the rules. You will be the one who decides how you want to leave your mark in our ancestry."

Ciro's expression became hard as he briefly mulled over his father's words. Emilio gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"So, how about it? Do you want to keep the tradition alive?"

The kitten suddenly cracked a wide grin, eyes brightening. "I do!" he said.

Emilio smiled, rubbing his son's head. "That's my boy."

"When can I do it?"

"Well, I'll need to train you first and teach you the skills you need to know. That'll come later."

Looking back at the painting, Emilio's expression became thoughtful. "You know, even before Pedro's time, our family was no stranger to mischief and sword fights. It's in our blood. Your forefathers were both scoundrels _and _heroes. How they viewed the world varied through each generation, but one thing they all had in common was the thrill of adventure. There was one cat in our ancestry who holds about as much fame in Spain as Pedro did here, and that was Miguel, Pedro's grandfather.

"Miguel lived in the city, Santiago de Compostela, and he was a renown cat burglar. He had a title of his own back in our homeland: 'Desperado Delgado'." Emilio chuckled. "He didn't wear boots like I did, but he did where a black mask over his eyes and a cape. He'd usually get around by jumping from roof to roof, and usually that cape was the only part of him someone who happened to be looking up managed to see. With each crime, the reward for his capture went up, and it didn't matter if he was caught dead or alive. Though humans viewed him as a pest that needed to be exterminated, he was viewed as a hero among cats, and even dogs and other domesticated animals that were tired of living beneath humans."

"Was he ever captured?"

"Well, he managed to elude authorities for a few years. He married of course, and started a family, but he didn't give up his life of adventure. Of course it became stressful for him, as the authorities weren't just interested in getting him but his family as well, as it was illegal to knowingly harbor a fugitive and not report him, so they were constantly relocating, and they did this for over a year. This was what led to Pedro's family leaving the country. They were constantly being harassed about Miguel's whereabouts and it eventually became too much."

"So…they _didn't _catch him?"

"I honestly don't know. No one knows. I like to think that he was never caught. I'd like to think that he led those authorities on a wild goose chase for many more years and he probably did."

Emilio paused, reaching up a paw and touching it to the decorative urn placed on the shelf just below the painting. "Oh, and this…This urn hold's your great, great, great grandfather's ashes."

"Ashes?"

"Si, he was cremated."

"What does 'cremated' mean?"

"Well, after a person dies, their remains are burned until they're reduced to ash. Some people keep the ashes, while others take them and spread them somewhere where the deceased individual held some special memory."

Ciro stared at the urn with a rather shocked gaze. Emilio couldn't help but laugh at this. "I know it sounds a bit strange."

There was a faint rustling sound outside, and Emilio peeked his head out of the temple to see the leaves of the surrounding trees curling up, revealing their undersides as they swayed in the wind.

"Well…we better head inside. It looks like a storm's coming," said Emilio, noticing dark clouds slowly moving in. He lifted his son into his arms and started heading back towards the cottage. The wind became stronger as a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

0ooooooo0

Puss was suddenly interrupted as a loud wail commenced from one of the triplets. This seemed to entice the other two, and soon all three were crying at the top of their lungs.

"Somehow I doubt they all dropped a load simultaneously," said Shrek with a grin.

"Nope. I think they're hungry," said Fiona. "I guess we better get them their swamp juice. Is that what you want?" the princess said sweetly to the crying infants. "Are you hungry?" The two ogres stood from their chairs to prepare the bottles for their children. Meanwhile, Puss lifted his arms up and stretched, while Donkey remained sitting on the floor, a rather puzzled look on his face.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up a minute, time out, back it up!" he said. "Didn't _you_ say something 'bout bein' some cat burglar from Santi-whatchamacallit?"

Puss smirked, lowering his arms. "Ah, you caught that, hmm? You're not as slow as you look."

"Thanks!" Donkey replied with a grin, but then quickly frowned. "Wait…"

Puss went on: "All right, so it wasn't myself but rather one of my forefathers. It's like my father said, the thrill of adventure, the rush of combat…it's in our blood. Whenever my sword clashed with another, I always felt that their spirits were inside me, guiding my movements. Corny as it may sound, I felt like I actually knew them, as though their souls had simply been reincarnated into my body."

Donkey blinked a few times. "Yeeeaaah, okay. Whatever you say, man."

Puss chuckled. "Well, I'm not denying that it sounds a bit loco."

The loud wailing of the infants had quieted immensely as soon as they had been given their bottles. The two adult ogres returned to their chairs, holding their children close as they fed them.

"You know, I really wish I could've met your mom," said Fiona. "She sounded like a little spitfire."

"She was, believe me," replied Puss. "She took a great joy in giving my father a hard time."

"So did you learn how to fight after that, or what?" asked Shrek. Puss shook his head.

"No, I was still too young, and my father was very vague about when he would start teaching me, and it was torture waiting. I was ready to start right then and there, but I had to wait several months."

"I'm curious…was it your grandfather you got the idea from to steal those clothes when I was human?"

"Eh…sort of. After all, Pedro didn't threaten anyone to give his master his clothes, and he didn't use a chatty stallion to stop the carriage, either. But yes, I remembered the story and thought we could try something similar."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "You guys are terrible."

"Well, hey, we didn't have any money. I needed to get clothes _somewhere,_" Shrek replied, grinning at his wife. "They still had their undergarments."

Fiona shook her head but smiled nonetheless. Her expression softened as she noticed the triplets start to drift off to sleep after being fed. "Well, guess we better put them down for their naps."

Shrek and Fiona carried the infants back into the bedroom and put them to bed, hoping they wouldn't wake for at least an hour. They both knew a diaper change was right around the corner. Once they returned to the living room, Puss was able to pick up where he left off.

0ooooooo0

After coming back inside, Ciro made his way into his bedroom and retrieved his ball from the floor. He climbed up onto his bed and lay on his back, throwing the ball into the air and letting it fall back down into his paws. His mind raced with exciting thoughts of swords clashing together in heated battles. Now that his father had planted the thought in his mind, he knew it would probably be the only thing he'd think about from now until he started his training.

The youngster was so grounded in his thoughts that it wasn't until the third time his mother called his name that he finally snapped out of it. His ball slipped from his paws as he sat up to look at her.

"Well, welcome back to Earth," she joked with a pleasant smile. "Come into my bedroom, Ciro. I want to talk to you."

Seeing that his mother was smiling, Ciro really didn't see any reason to fear what was coming. He followed close behind his mother into his parents' bedroom, spotting his siblings sleeping soundly in their wicker basket on the floor. His mother picked him up and sat down on the edge of the bed with him.

"Listen, mijo, your father told me how you were feeling left out because of all the attention your brothers have been getting."

"I'm sorry!" Ciro said quickly, fearing now that his mother would think him selfish.

"Oh, hush," she said, grinning. "I'd be worried if you _weren't _jealous. Sweetheart, it's perfectly natural for the older child to be a bit jealous when there's a new baby getting all the attention, but it's not because we like them more or think they're cuter."

"I know, Mom," Ciro sighed.

"But…I really haven't been paying any attention to you at all, kittens or no kittens. I've practically ignored you ever since your brothers were born."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. Here in the next week, it'll be time to start weaning your brothers. Nursing is what keeps me so busy. Once they've been weaned, I won't have to tend to them so much. They'll be pretty independent after that. It's just a matter of making sure they don't get into mischief, which I'll still need to count on you for that. Once they're able to start walking, there's no keeping up with them." Catalina smiled a warming smile. "So…catch me up," she said. "How is life treating you? Anything new?"

"Papi told me about the family tradition!" Ciro exclaimed excitedly, beaming at his mother.

"Did he?" she asked with little enthusiasm. "I take it you want to do it?"

"Yep!" the kitten replied, eyes twinkling. His mother sighed, which quickly deflated the youngster's excitement. "What's wrong?"

Catalina tried to force a reassuring smile. "What's wrong is I'm a mother, baby. I just worry for your safety is all. I've known about this tradition ever since I married your father, and I always dreaded the day when it would fall upon one of my kids. I had hoped you'd actually turn it down."

Ciro's frown deepened. "I'll be okay, Mami."

"Well…I just hope you're doing it because _you _want to and not just to please your father."

"No, I want to! I think it'd be fun!"

The kitten's enthusiastic smile had returned, and his mother couldn't help a smile of her own. As much as she opposed the idea of her oldest child partaking in such a risky tradition, the idea of taking away Ciro's joy was even more unsettling. All she ever wanted was for him to be happy, and never had she seen him so enthusiastic about anything. Who was she to take that away from him? All she could hope for was that he would keep a level head and pay close attention when his father started training him.

"Well, I can't stop you," she said, running a paw over the top of his head. She then lifted him up and sat him down on the floor before getting up and leaving the room. Ciro returned to his bedroom, while Catalina went in search of Emilio, who she found in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of milk.

"Well…you told him, hmm?"

Emilio looked up. "Well, yeah. I figured it was time."

Catalina's eyes narrowed. "I really hope you didn't con him into it."

"Con? You mean like telling him I'll take him out on his first beer run if he does it?"

A look of repulsion struck the female's face. "Oh, I could just slap you!"

Emilio laughed as he had a seat at the table. "Oh, I know you could. Look, I didn't beat him over the head with the idea, or make it sound like he _had _to do it."

"Bull. You probably had that 'Son, you'll make your father so proud if you do this' tone."

Emilio rolled his eyes. "Look, will you stop being a sore loser?"

"Well forgive me for worrying about my son!" the female snapped as she yanked a chair out from under the table and sat down.

"You're being overprotective," Emilio countered.

"And you're being _under_protective."

"Underpro…? _What?_"

"I happen to believe it's better to care too much than it is to not care at all."

"Oh, so you're suggesting that I don't care about my son?"

Catalina shoved her face in her paws, groaning in frustration. Emilio slid a paw across the table and rubbed her arm soothingly. "Will you just relax?"

"I would if I could."

"He'll be fine. I think he'll turn out to be an even more skilled fighter than me."

"Well, I certainly hope so. No offense."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for nearly 700 hits, guys! Between this update and the last, this story received almost 100 hits total :D And thanks to **QueenSkellington **for faving the story!

I now have an account at WordPress, which is a blog site. I created a fanfiction blog to post updates on the progress of my stories and to discuss story ideas. So if people are ever curious about the progress of this story, or why there might be a delay in updates, if one should ever occur, then you can check the blog for details. The link is posted in my profile.

And I finally got Catalina's portrait posted to DA. Get ready to have your corneas set on fire by my terrible artistic skills D8


	11. A Potent Venom

Chapter XI:  
**A Potent Venom**

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was no wind and not a cloud in the sky; it was the perfect conditions for fishing, which was something Ciro had been dying to do for about a week. He and his father picked their usual spot on the grassy bank by the pond. Henry was currently climbing onto the bank as the two felines prepared their fishing poles.

"Hey," he greeted as he made his way over to where Ciro was seated. "I haven't seen you for a while."

"Well, ever since my brothers were born, I've been kinda busy." Ciro sat his pole down in the grass. "I'm going to take a walk with Henry, Papi. I'll be right back."

"All right, but don't take too long. We have a better chance at catching more fish if we're both fishing."

"I won't be long."

Ciro stood and walked beside his friend, both of them heading away from the pond. "You've gotten bigger," said Ciro, looking over the young bird. He noticed that his gray feathers seemed to have gotten a bit lighter.

"Yeah. And that's just one more thing everyone has to tease me about," Henry replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm twice the size of my brothers and sisters." He glanced at the cat by his side. "So what have you been doing, other than babysitting?" he asked with a laugh.

"Dad told me about our family tradition," Ciro replied, eager to spill the exciting details to his friend, who was now eyeing him curiously.

"What's that?"

Ciro practically stumbled over his words as he went over every last detail about what he had learned from his father two days ago, trying his best not to leave anything out. "It became a tradition that's passed down to the oldest child," he added lastly.

"What do you do?"

"From what Papá told me, I can do anything! I want to rescue damsels in distress, like the heroes do in all the other fairy tales!"

"Will you get to use a sword?"

"You bet!"

"Awesome!"

"I know. It's all I can think about," Ciro exclaimed as he hopped up onto a log, extending his arms out for balance. "Papá says I'm still too young to start training, but he told me yesterday that we can start pre-training next week."

"_Pre_-training?" Henry asked, cocking his head curiously.

"I don't know, either. He said it'll help me for when the actual training starts. I have no idea what it is, but I don't care, I still can't wait."

"When is the actual training supposed to start?"

Ciro sighed. "I really don't know, but Papi said it wouldn't be until after Christmas." Ciro frowned, lowering himself to where he was now sitting on the log. His face broke out into a pout. "And Christmas isn't for four more months." The kitten sighed.

"That reminds me: I know I didn't tell you, but I'll be leaving a few weeks before Christmas," said Henry. Ciro looked even more put off at hearing this.

"What? Where are you going?"

"Yearly migration. We're heading south where it's a bit warmer. Mom says the ponds always freeze around here. But don't worry, I'll be back in a few months."

"Oh, right," said Ciro, smacking his forehead. "I forgot about that." The youngster looked back towards the pond, figuring his father was becoming impatient. "I better get back to my dad."

0ooooooo0

Morning light trickled into the bedroom bit by bit. Every cat in the house was still sleeping soundly, save for one excited youngster who threw himself out of bed the moment his eyes opened. He ran into his parents' bedroom and hopped onto their bed.

Emilio groaned as the new weight on the bed pulled him from his slumber. He pulled the covers almost completely over his head and turned onto his side, facing the wall.

"Papi!" said an excited voice. "Papi, wake up! Come on! It's tomorrow!"

"Ciro, go back to bed," Emilio grumbled.

"C'mon, Papi!" Ciro whined as he began shaking his father's shoulder. "You said we'd do it today!"

"What in the world is going on?" Catalina asked sleepily, rolling over onto her back and cracking one eye open. Seeing her son wide awake and in the process of trying to rouse Emilio out of bed, she chortled. "You should have seen this coming, Emilio. You said tomorrow and it's tomorrow."

"I didn't mean at the butt crack of dawn!"

Becoming impatient, Ciro gave his father another shove. "Get up!" he growled.

"Push me one more time, and I'll throw you in the well, Ciro, I swear."

"Oh, stop being such a grouch," Catalina scolded. "Just get up and get out of here before you both wake up Benito and Víctor."

Emilio sighed in defeat. "Fine."

Ciro grinned brightly before jumping off the bed and leaving the room. Emilio slowly rose into a sitting position, extending both arms outward in a long stretch. "You should have to get up, too," he mumbled to his wife.

"No way. It's not often I get this bed all to myself," replied Catalina, rolling over to shoot her husband a smirk.

"Well, if I come back and you're still in this bed, I'm dragging you out by your tail," said the male, returning the smirk. He slowly pulled himself out of bed and shuffled out of the bedroom, finding his son waiting right outside the door for him.

"Come on!" Ciro chirped excitedly as he grabbed his father by the arm and dragged him towards the front door.

"I guess breakfast is out of the question."

Once outside, Emilio finally started to come to life. Taking in the fresh air seemed to rouse his senses. The two felines headed for the pond, the surface of which was covered by a thin mist. That sat down in the moist grass where they usually sat to fish.

"What are you going to teach me?" Ciro asked eagerly.

"Well, it has nothing to do with swords or knives, so if you had any of that in mind, you better forget about it."

Ciro shrugged, replying, "Well, I wasn't expecting that."

"What I'm about to teach you is what's going to _help _you when training starts, and long after it ends as well. This is going to help you all throughout your lifetime."

"What?"

"Meditation."

The kitten's face fell. "You mean that thing where you have to sit really still and close your eyes? That sounds boring."

Emilio chuckled. "I know this isn't exactly going to be easy for someone as energetic as you, but it _is _beneficial. People have used meditation for many things; often it's for religious purposes, but a lot of people use it as a way of clearing the mind. It's a way of relieving stress, and I'm teaching it to you _now _because once training starts, there's going to be _a lot _of stress. You're going to make mistakes, and you're going to get angry. You're going to get angry at yourself, you're going to get angry at me, and you're going to get angry at just about everything. And I know this because that's how it was when my father started training me."

A look of uncertainty came upon the young cat's face.

"I'm not making this tradition sound so thrilling anymore, am I?" Emilio asked, grinning sheepishly.

"I still want to do it," said Ciro, determination in his tone. Emilio smiled at this.

"All right, then, let's get started." Emilio erected his back and pulled his shoulders back. "There are several different types of meditation, but what I'm going to teach you is what's called guided meditation. What you do is basically just go to a happy place, as some like to call it. The idea is to try and visualize a place of tranquility, a place that gives you a great sense of peace. Try picturing the sights and sounds that would be associated with that place, and then just try to imagine yourself being there."

"I don't get it…How does this help?"

"Like I said, it helps clear the mind. Generally, when a person is stressed, it's because they have so many thoughts jumbled around inside their minds; meditation helps clear those thoughts and attains peace. You'll have a focused mind, which is essential in combat."

"So…what do I do?"

"Sit up straight," Emilio replied as he pushed against the center of Ciro's back. "Now close your eyes, and just try and concentrate. Try to visualize a calm and beautiful place and just imagine yourself being there right now."

Ciro squirmed slightly. "This is hard."

"You'll get it."

The youngster didn't understand how he could possibly clear his mind. His mind had been anything but calm and organized ever since his father told him about the tradition. All he could think about since then was the exhilarating thrill of a heated battle with numerous foes, his sword clashing with theirs.

Ciro inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the grass and flowers that surrounded him. He could hear the sound of birds chirping from all different directions, and his ear flicked when he felt a butterfly try to land on it. It was then that his mind started to formulate an image with the aid of the sounds and smells of his surroundings. He was able to make out a large, green meadow, decorated with a wide variety of wild flowers of every possible color.

"Ciro?" Emilio reached over and shook his son's shoulder. The younger cat opened his eyes as his concentration was broken. He glanced up at his father, who seemed pleased. "I think this first lesson was a success," he said. "What did you see?"

"A meadow with lots of flowers."

"Bueno, mijo."

Ciro sighed. "Are you sure we can't try sword fighting?"

Emilio laughed. "No, son. You're still too young."

Ciro sighed, pulling at a long blade of grass.

"But you know…I guess now is as good a time as any to teach you a trick of mine that I developed when I was wearing the boots."

Ciro's eyes lit up again. "Really? What?"

"Well, this was something that I came up with that sometimes helped me in tight spots. Pay attention."

Emilio closed his eyes for a brief moment and Ciro looked a bit confused. When his father reopened his eyes, his pupils were wide and his face had taken on an expression of innocence while his ears went flat. He held this expression for a few short seconds, and then he blinked, his pupils returning to normal as his innocent expression vanished.

"I…don't get it," Ciro commented. His father grinned.

"Sometimes an enemy just doesn't see a sweet-looking cat wearing boots as much of a threat. How can something so cute be threatening? And once they let their guard down, you have the upper hand." Emilio smirked as he said this. "Why don't you give it a try?"

"Umm…okay."

Ciro slowly looked up at his father, pupils dilating and ears lowering slightly. He stuck his bottom lip out slightly for emphasis. Emilio looked beyond impressed.

"Okay…Okay, that's enough. Stop."

"Was that good?"

"Oh, it was good…So good it was scary, actually. But then again, you're still young, so it kind of enhances the effect. Kind of like how the venom of a snake is the most potent when it's young." Emilio laughed lightly, running a paw across his neck. "Just remember that little trick for when you're in a tight spot. Just don't always be dependent on it. It's not always going to work, especially if the opponent is an ogre."

"Did you ever fight any ogres, Papi?"

Emilio's gaze suddenly became hard as he stared down at his son. He swallowed slowly, feeling a lump form in his throat. "Si…a couple," he managed to say, though it was difficult. The cat shifted his gaze to the shimmering pond, jaw clenching.

"Tell me about it!" Ciro prodded.

"I will, son but not now. I'll tell you when you're older."

Ciro rolled his eyes, grabbing a jagged rock and chucking it into the pond in frustration. "I'm so sick of hearing that," he growled.

Emilio smiled guiltily. "Sorry," he said. "I don't say that just to get on your nerves."

The kitten turned his attention back to his father. "Aren't ogres really big, though? Wouldn't it be hard to fight one? We're so small."

"Size isn't everything, Ciro. In fact, it is our small stature that gives us the advantage."

"How?"

"Well, with being so small and agile, it gives us a higher advantage against a large opponent. We're able to move around them more easily; it confuses them. But of course, with every strength comes a weakness."

"What's that?"

"Well, most cats have an inherited instinct to go limp whenever they're picked up by the scruff of the neck. It's sort of an involuntary response."

"Why does that happen?"

"Well, for most cats, it happens because as kittens, they are generally carried around by the back of the neck in their mother's mouth. Even though that's not how _your _mother carried you around, when you were just a few weeks old, you were always very hyperactive. Your mother and I could hardly keep up with you. Once you were able to walk, you were always very adventurous and had to explore every nook and cranny of the house, and you ran around so much, we were always worried you were going to get hurt one way or another.

"In order to get you under control, we both ended up having to nab you by the back of the neck every now and then. Just picking you up the way we usually do didn't really do much good. You always calmed down once we got you by the neck. That was the only way we could get you to finally settle down, and we had to keep doing that for a while. So you, like most ordinary cats, inherited that instinct, unfortunately. It's your Achilles' heel. So whenever you find yourself in combat, don't let your guard down for a second, because if your enemy gets you by the back of the neck, you better hope he's merciful. I wish I had had the common sense back then to know picking you up like that would have its consequences in the future, but I wasn't thinking."

"So I can't fight back, no matter what?"

"Not in all cases. If you're aggressive when they pick you up, chances are you'll just become twice as aggressive, but if you're weak or disoriented, your outcome might not be so great. Just avoid getting grabbed altogether."

Ciro sighed, staring out over the water. "I can't wait to learn how to fight."

Emilio laughed at the child's eagerness. "Well, I couldn't wait, either, but I'm telling you now that it's not going to be easy. It's a lot of hard work."

"I can do it."

"I'm sure you can. But there are going to be times when you think you can't."

"I _can_," Ciro asserted again, a bit more firmly.

"Take it easy, mijo. I just want you to be prepared for what's to come." The older cat smiled. "You're a determined little runt, so I know you'll do fine." Emilio patted the youngster's shoulder. "So do you want to try the meditation again?"

"Okay."

0ooooooo0

When the two cats returned home, Ciro wandered off to his room while Emilio went straight for the kitchen. He found Catalina sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of breakfast in front of her. "How long have you been up?"

"About twenty minutes. That bed felt good without you in it."

"I'll bet." Emilio retrieved a plate and helped himself to the still hot food. "Well, I let him know what was to come. I wanted to make sure he knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park."

"You know…don't you think it's time to have another talk with him?"

Emilio nearly dropped his plate as he started to sit down at the table. "Now?"

"Sure. I'd say he's old enough now. It'd be good if we told him _before _he left home. It'd be kind of awkward for him if the ladies start making passes at him and he's absolutely clueless."

"He's only seven months old."

"I know that. That's about eleven in human years, isn't it? Don't humans typically give their kids The Talk around that age?"

"I don't care what humans do. Can't it wait another month?"

Catalina sighed. "You know, usually it's the mothers who dread giving their kids The Talk, not the fathers," she stated with a chuckle.

Emilio glared. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were wanting me to do it alone anyway. I get the feeling you aren't going to help me."

Catalina smirked. "Well, you'd be right."

"Why me?"

"Look, I had to go through the agony of bringing that child into this world. That was my pain, and this is yours. We're even now."

"You're a twisted woman."

"Gracias."

Emilio sighed. "Fine. I'll just get this over with right now. I guess it also wouldn't hurt to give him a few tips when dealing with the ladies," he added, shooting his wife a cocky grin. She nearly choked on her food.

"Watch it. I said give him The Talk, not player lessons. I don't want him strutting around like some little peacock who thinks he's every lady's dream like you did when we first met."

Emilio just laughed as he left the kitchen. Catalina smiled to herself and resumed eating her breakfast. She didn't know how long he'd take with Ciro, though she was sure he'd try to get through it as quickly as possible. Her mind shifted gears, and she found herself looking to the future. She would much rather see Ciro settle down with a family than take part in reckless behavior. Plus, she just wanted grandchildren to spoil rotten. She certainly hoped that he met someone fairly soon once he left home.

When Ciro slowly made his way into the kitchen, Catalina had to fight to keep her laughter at bay upon seeing the youngster's rather horrified expression.

"Gross, huh?" she teased. Ciro climbed up into a chair and stared at his mother for a moment.

"Did you and Papi really…do that?"

"Yep."

"That's how you made me?"

The female nodded.

"Am _I _going to have to do that?"

"Well, if you want a family some day, then yes."

"Do I have to?"

"Well, no, you don't _have _to, but you're going to feel differently when you're older. You're still too young to really see yourself as a husband and father. Trust me, you're going to meet all kinds of girls, but there's going to be that one that you won't be able to get out of your head. Besides, you're going to need kids to pass on the tradition to," Catalina added with a bit of spite. "Speaking of which, are you still excited about it?"

Ciro nodded. "Papi taught me a trick."

Catalina grinned knowingly. "Let me guess…the puppy dog eyes?"

"How'd you know?"

Catalina laughed. "Oh, your father pulled that one on me a few times when we were dating. In fact, that's how he got me to marry him."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took a while to finally update, but my updates aren't always going to be right on schedule. In fact, from here on out, they probably won't be. I'm too much of a procrastinator for anything to happen when I say it will. I would have updated yesterday, but there was a glitch with the document manager that went on for hours.

I'd like to ask that people please not review my story more than once, asking me why it's taking me so long to update. This is just frustrating to me and it doesn't make me write faster. As I said, please visit my WordPress account if you are ever curious about the progress of the story.

Thanks for 800+ hits!


	12. A Bond Made Stronger

Chapter XII:

**A Bond Made Stronger**

Emilio unlocked the barn doors and pushed them open, walking into the barn with his eldest son following shortly behind. The small horse occupying the barn looked over at him curiously, and then slowly made his way towards the cat, hoping he had brought him something to eat.

"You know me too well," Emilio said as he held out the apple slice for the little horse to take. "Hand me that cover, Ciro."

The younger cat stepped forward and held out the folded winter covering, which Emilio took and set to work on getting it placed on the miniature horse. "Winter really snuck up on us," he commented as he worked to get the strings tied that held the covering in place. "Is Henry leaving this week?"

"Yes," Ciro replied as he watched his father work, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "He's leaving tomorrow. I promised I'd meet him by the pond to say goodbye. Have you noticed how light his feathers are getting? He's not nearly as gray as he used to be."

"Well, that's not surprising. You yourself were actually pretty_ light_ when you were born, and you got a little darker in coloring as you got older. It's natural." Emilio patted the horse's back after securing the winter covering. "Okay, that's got that done. Now I'm going to go get the saw so we can find a Christmas tree."

Ciro laughed suddenly. "You _know _Víctor and Beni are going to want to come."

"Probably. I guess it wouldn't hurt to let them come, but I'm going to have to count on you to keep a close eye on them. They're just as bad as you were when you were their age."

Both Emilio and Ciro made their way out of the barn, leaving the doors open so that the small horse could make his leave and exercise if he so chose. The two cats re-entered the cottage, enjoying the warmth that hit them as soon as they walked through the door. They found the rest of the family seated in the kitchen.

"Sticking close to the fireplace, huh?" Emilio asked.

"I'll sleep in here if I have to," Catalina remarked, getting up to remove the pot of tea from the fireplace after it started to whistle.

"Well, I guess it'd be crazy to ask if you wanted to come with us to find a Christmas tree?"

"_Very _crazy."

"Can I come?!" Benito asked excitedly, dropping his sandwich and turning to look to his father, brown eyes wide and hopeful.

"I wanna come, too!" Víctor chimed in.

"Don't you think it's a bit too cold?" Catalina protested.

"It's not even freezing right now," Emilio replied with a shrug. "Now by this time next month, you'd probably turn into a block of ice the second you set foot outside."

"All right, then. Just make sure you don't let them wander off."

"I'll keep an eye on them," Ciro assured his mother.

"All right, I'll go get the saw. You kids can be waiting outside for me."

Benito and Victor practically threw themselves out of their chairs, making a mad dash for the front door. Ciro ran after them, managing to catch Victor by the tail, though Benito was already outside. "Freeze, Beni!" he yelled. He took Victor by the paw and walked over to his other brother, taking him by the paw as well. Oddly, he felt like a father rather than a brother, realizing now how frustrated his own father must have gotten with him when he had been his brothers' age.

When their father came outside with saw in paw, the two kittens instantly began tugging on their elder brother's arms, anxious to start walking. "You're going to pull my arms out of their sockets!" Ciro scolded them, though they continued to pull. Emilio chuckled, noticing the irony of the situation as well.

"What do you do with a Christmas tree, Papi?" Victor asked. He, nor his brother had come to fully understand the holiday.

"Well, it's just a part of the Christmas tradition. When you find a tree that you like, you bring it home and decorate it. And then the Christmas presents go underneath it."

The giving of presents was a tradition the children _did _understand quite well. In fact, ever since their parents first introduced the idea of the holiday to them, the only thing that had really registered with them was the term, 'presents', and they didn't give a second thought to everything else that went with it, but that was to be expected.

"I remember when I went with my father to cut down our first Christmas tree; we had about a half a foot of snow already on the ground."

"How come it hasn't snowed yet?" asked Benito.

"Just give it time. It'll get here."

The family of cats walked on past the pond and into a large field dotted with many evergreen trees of various sizes and shapes.

"What about that one?" Benito said, pointing towards the first tree he laid eyes on. Emilio took one look at the tree and snorted.

"Son," he laughed, "I'm afraid that one's taller than our house. We'd probably have a bit of trouble squeezing it into the living room. We need something much smaller."

"Oh," Benito replied disappointedly. "Well _I _liked it," he mumbled.

"That one?" Ciro suggested as he nodded towards a much more scaled down tree.

"Mmm…no, that one's still a bit too big. I know it's hard to tell since we're outside."

"What about that one?" Victor said as he pointed to a slightly smaller tree fifteen feet off to his right. Emilio regarded the tree with interest, approaching it to better establish its size.

"Good choice, mijo," Emilio said as he nodded at the little tree.

"Ha ha! He liked mine better!" Víctor teased his brothers.

"Don't make me turn _you _into a Christmas tree ornament, Víctor," Ciro threatened light-heartedly.

"When do the presents go under the tree?" Benito asked excitedly. Emilio chuckled at this.

"Soon, son, soon. We need to get the tree decorated first." The black and white knelt down to begin sawing the base of the tree. "Your aunt Marisa's spending Christmas with us this year, and I can guarantee she'll have presents. It's an aunt's job to spoil her nephews, after all." Emilio looked over at Ciro. "She'll definitely be amazed to see how big you've gotten, Ciro."

"I don't even remember her."

"Well you were too young to remember."

"Did _we _ever meet her?" Víctor asked, referring to himself and Benito.

"Nope. This is the first time she's seen you, so brace yourselves. She's going to go nuts when she sees you two."

The small evergreen tree fell to the ground, barely making a sound. Emilio grabbed one end of the tree while Ciro grabbed the other and they both were able to lift it easily, both inwardly groaning upon realizing that their paws would be coated with tree sap. As they carried the tree back to the cottage, they noticed Catalina securing a red ribbon to the front door. "Well, that didn't take long," she said when she saw them. She pushed the door opened and allowed them to carry the tree inside.

"I picked it out!" Victor said cheerfully, smiling rather smugly.

"Who cares?" Benito snapped.

"You're just jealous," the red kitten snickered.

Benito glared, sticking his tongue out.

"Hey, behave, you two, or else you're going to wake up knee-deep in coal Christmas morning," Catalina scolded. "All right, let's get this tree set up so we can start decorating it!"

0ooooooo0

The temperature was exceptionally cold when Ciro stepped out of the cottage, his brothers accompanying him on both sides. Looking up at the sky, he was almost certain that the gray, wavy clouds above would, at any moment, spill blankets of snow onto the ground. He couldn't recall a vivid memory of a time when he saw snow on the ground. His parents had mentioned that it had been snowing the night he was born, but he certainly wasn't going to remember that.

Ciro spotted Henry by the pond, pacing near the partially frozen water as he waited for the cat to arrive. "Hey," he said when he spotted the tabby. He smiled at the two little kittens that toddled along side their brother. It was the first time he had actually seen them.

"Buenas tardes," Ciro returned the greeting. "Víctor, Benito, this is my friend Henry that I told you about."

"Hi there," Henry greeted the kittens. Víctor smiled and waved, while Benito hid his face in Ciro's hip. He patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"He's kinda shy. He's not used to meeting new faces. So, are you leaving right now?"

The bird nodded. "Here in a few minutes. And it looks like not a moment too soon," he added as he nodded towards the thin layer of ice resting on the surface of the pond. Benito followed the bird's gaze, staring with heightened curiosity at the frozen water, a sight he had never seen before.

"So when will you be back exactly?" Ciro asked his friend. Henry shrugged his wings.

"Spring time. Can't give an exact date, and I can't say I'm really looking forward to this. I'm going to miss having a friend to hang out with."

"Same here," Ciro replied with a sigh. He felt Benito pull against his hold and he released his paw without much of a thought.

"Well, I guess I can look forward to you showing me all your cool fighting skills once I get back."

The cat grinned. "Looking forward to it."

"Just don't try them on _me_," the bird added with a laugh._ "_Did your dad say exactly _when _after Christmas you'd start your training?"

"No," Ciro mumbled, rolling his eyes. "But I hope it's soon. It's all I've been able to think about. I think I'm probably the only kid in the world who wishes Christmas would hurry up and be over with already."

Henry grinned, shifting his gaze towards the pond. Within seconds, his eyes widened in fear. Curious, Ciro followed his gaze, and his blood ran cold. "Beni!" he shouted. "Get away from there!"

The little cream-colored kitten had curiously wandered out onto the thin layer of ice without being noticed, having to walk on all fours in order to keep from falling over.

"Benito!" Ciro shouted again, running towards the edge of the pond. "Get back here _now!_"

Benito paid no attention to his brother's pleas, enjoying himself too much. He ran and slid again and again, giggling endlessly.

"Benito, please! It's dangerous!" Ciro looked down at the ice, contemplating whether or not he should risk venturing out to retrieve the kitten. He was a couple of pounds heavier than his brother and thought for sure the ice would break the second he set foot on it.

"Maybe I can fly out and get him!" Henry said urgently as he rushed up beside the eldest cat. Before Ciro could respond, they heard the horrifying sound of breaking ice and splashing water. The kitten started screaming and flailing his arms around the second he hit the water. Every piece of ice that he grabbed for with his claws easily broke.

"Víctor, go get Mom and Dad!" Ciro yelled to his younger sibling as he took three steps back, and then rushed forward, lunging out over the pond and breaking through the ice. The second he hit the water, it felt as though he had been stabbed by thousands of needles simultaneously, but he hardly paid any attention to the intense pain.

Víctor did as his brother instructed, turning and fleeing back to the cottage as fast as his little legs could carry him. Henry remained where he stood, paralyzed with shock and heart pounding as he watched Ciro fight his way through the ice to reach his drowning brother, who was still fighting to keep his head above the freezing water. By the time he had finally reached him, Benito's head had disappeared beneath the surface.

Ciro took a deep breath and dove under the water, finding his brother slowly sinking, though he was still weakly struggling for the surface. Ciro reached out and grabbed the kitten by the wrist, pulling him towards the surface. As soon as their heads broke the surface, they both inhaled deeply, coughing and spitting out water. "Put your arms around my neck!" Ciro instructed as he pulled his brother around onto his back. The smaller kitten practically climbed on top of his brother's head, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck and sinking his hind claws into his back, which Ciro hardly noticed due to his body slowly becoming numb.

Ciro swam through the path he had cut in the ice, exhaustion already beginning to set in. Henry finally managed to snap himself out of his shocked state and quickly took to the air, flying towards the distressed cats. "Grab on!" he shouted as he hovered directly above them. Ciro reached up and grabbed the bird's leg, happy to accept the help. As they were pulled to safety, Ciro looked over to see his mother and father rushing towards the pond in a panic, his brother toddling pretty far behind. Catalina ran ahead of Emilio, quickly reaching out to pull Benito from Ciro's back. She pulled him against her chest, hugging tightly in both relief, as well as an attempt to keep him warm.

Emilio yanked Ciro out of the water as soon as Catalina had retrieved Benito. "Are you all right?" he asked urgently.

"F-Fine," Ciro managed to answer, teeth chattering. "J-Just c-c-cold."

"Let's hurry and get them inside," said Catalina. The family started making their way for home, Henry slowly following behind out of concern, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to head South with the rest of his family. As the family of felines started making their way through the front door, Catalina glanced over her shoulder, noticing the oddly-colored duck following close behind. "Oh, Henry, I'm sorry. I forgot you were there for a second, sweetie. I was in such a panic."

"I just wanted to make sure they were okay."

Catalina smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, they'll be fine. You should go. I don't want to hold you and your family up. I know you need to leave."

The bird nodded slowly. "Well…tell Ciro I said 'Bye.'"

"I will. And thank you," Catalina added. "I'm glad you were there." The feline waved the bird off and quickly followed her family into the living room, placing Benito down on the couch. Ciro had a seat beside him, rocking back and forth as he hugged himself for warmth. Their father appeared with a set of blankets, and both parents quickly set to work at wrapping both children with the blankets as tightly as possible. Catalina held Benito in her lap, wrapping her arms around him to comfort him, as his eyes were still wide with shock.

"Benito, what were you thinking?" Emilio scolded. "You could have been killed! And Ciro could have been killed trying to save you!"

The kitten whimpered at his father's tone.

"You don't ever walk out onto a frozen pond! You don't know how thin the ice is!"

Benito's eyes welled with tears and he turned to bury his face into his mother's neck, sobbing. Catalina shushed him, patting his head. "This can wait," she told her husband.

"It's my fault anyway," said Ciro, staring down at the floor in shame.

"Hush," said Catalina firmly. "Let's not yell or cast blame here, all right? The important thing is you're both safe."

0ooooooo0

By the next morning, both Benito and Ciro were sick. Catalina had made a spot on the couch for Benito until he was well again, not wanting to risk Víctor getting sick as well. Ciro managed to get up from time to time and move around, but Benito could barely sit up without becoming dizzy and falling over. They were both running a fever and had a nasty cough.

Catalina walked into the living room with a wet rag in one paw and a bowl of soup in the other. She placed the bowl of soup down on the small, round table by the couch and had a seat next to the weakened kitten. "How're you feeling?" she asked, not really expecting much of a change in the youngster's condition. Benito only groaned, eyes fluttering open to look up at his mother. Catalina took the rag and placed it against his forehead, hoping it would provide some relief. "Can you eat anything?"

Benito just shrugged. Catalina reached over and retrieved the bowl of soup, hoping he would at least take a bite. She avoided the bits of meat for the moment and instead just gathered a spoonful of broth. She steadily reached the spoon over to the child and he opened his mouth to receive it. "Think you can eat the chicken, too?" Catalina asked. Benito nodded, and Catalina smiled, readying another spoonful.

After feeding the kitten to his fill, Catalina returned to the kitchen to prepare another bowl for Ciro, humming quietly to herself.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Emilio asked from the table.

"Enjoying what?"

"The kids being sick."

"What?! Why would I enjoy them being sick?"

"Well, not necessarily them being sick, but this whole being needed, nurturing thing. You love it."

Catalina smiled to herself as she gathered the soup in the ladle and poured it into a clean bowl. "Well, I _do _like feeling needed." The red cat glanced over at her husband and instantly frowned. "What are you doing?"

Emilio looked up, brows knitted in confusion. "What?"

"Are you eating my soup?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do, bathe in it?"

"That soup is for the boys, not you."

"Oh, come on, there's more than enough."

Catalina stirred the soup to cool it. "You should talk to Beni. He probably thinks you're still mad at him. You haven't said a word to him all day."

"I don't want to risk getting sick."

Catalina shot a glare at the black and white cat. "I ought to hit you over the head with this," she said as she picked up the discarded soup ladle and shook it at her mate.

"Why? Because I don't want to get sick?"

"Oh for crying out loud, stop being a baby. So because you're afraid of catching a little cold, you'd rather treat your son like he's some kind of plague?"

Emilio dropped his spoon into his unfinished soup, sighing guiltily. "Why don't you just shove a knife in my heart? That'd probably be a lot easier." Surrendering to his wife's guilt trip, Emilio rose to his feet. "All right, I'll go talk to him."

When Emilio entered the living room, he thought for a moment that the kitten was sound asleep, but his eyes fluttered open seconds after entering the room. He instantly became a bit fearful upon seeing his father. The elder cat slowly approached the couch and sat down silently. The fact that he had yet to speak and wasn't smiling intensified the kitten's fear. "Are you gonna yell at me, Papi?" he asked meekly. Emilio winced inwardly. The child sounded absolutely pitiful, and it made Emilio want to bash his head against a wall.

"No," he said, letting out a breath. "But I still want to make it perfectly clear how dangerous that was. The only reason I got so angry was because I was terrified of losing you. When you are with me, or your mom, or Ciro, you _don't _wander off, understood? Anything could happen."

The kitten nodded.

"Good." Emilio stood up and secured the blanket more tightly around the kitten's small frame. He then leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "I love you."

0ooooooo0

Catalina pushed open the door to Ciro's bedroom and peeked inside to see if he was awake. He was purring softly and appeared to be drifting in and out of sleep. His mother stepped into room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Soup's on," she said, smiling. Ciro pushed himself into a sitting position and reached his paws out for the bowl. "I can't feed it to you?" his mother asked.

The younger cat rolled his eyes. "I'm not a baby, Mami."

"You'll _always_ be my baby."

Ciro groaned as he took the bowl from his mother. He ignored the spoon and brought the bowl up to his lips. The broth burned a bit, but it still felt good against his throat, despite barely being able to taste it. "Is Beni okay?"

"Aside from being under the weather, he's fine."

Ciro stirred the chicken bits around with his spoon. "It _was _my fault and you know it."

"Ciro…"

"If I had just been paying more attention, it wouldn't have happened! I let go of his paw and look what happened!"

"Stop it, mijo. You're making the false assumption that you can prevent every bad thing from happening, but you can't. None of us can. Not me, not your father, and not you. Sometimes bad things happen, and no matter how much you think you're prepared for them, or want to be, you aren't, but you acted fast and got your brother out of there in the nick of time. You can't put a force field around him."

"But if I had just-"

"No, Ciro. Stop dwelling on what was and focus on the now. You're alive and your brother's alive, and that's the important thing."

Ciro shook his head, unable to shake the guilt. He knew that if he hadn't been so preoccupied, then his brother never would have been in any danger to begin with, and maybe his mother knew that, but it wasn't like she was really going to put that on his shoulders.

After taking one bite of chicken, Ciro made a face. Liquids he could handle, but solid food was still out. He shook his head, letting the spoon fall against the rim of the bowl. "I don't think I can eat anymore."

"At least drink the broth."

Ciro nodded and downed the rest of the broth. He handed the bowl back to his mother and settled under the covers. Catalina rubbed his shoulder through the quilt. "Try to sleep. I'll come back later to check on you."

0ooooooo0

Benito woke with a fright, shooting straight up into a sitting position, eyes wide with fear. He looked around the room momentarily, relieved to see that he was safe in his home, though he swore he could still feel the stinging pain of the icy pond enveloping him. He whimpered as he contemplated going back to sleep, fearing he might find himself back in that pond, just out of his brother's reach.

The kitten carefully slipped off the couch, trying to fight off the dizziness that he felt, and padded out of the room, though he swayed a bit. He toddled down the hallway and stopped in front of his brother's room. He pushed himself onto his tip-toes and turned the knob. The door creaked as it slowly swung open, though it didn't seem to rouse Ciro from his sleep. Benito tip-toed into the room and climbed up onto the bed with a bit of effort. He crawled up to the front of the bed and snuggled closely against his brother. Just as he closed his eyes and prepared to go to sleep, he sneezed loudly. This succeeded in waking the older cat.

"Beni?" Ciro asked groggily as he turned to the intruder. "What are you doing in here?"

Benito sniffled, wiping his nose. "I had a bad dream."

"Well, it's okay, Beni. Dreams aren't real, remember?" Ciro rubbed his brother's arm. "Come on, go back to the couch," he said as he started to pull the youngster out of bed.

"No!" he squealed desperately, clinging to Ciro's arm.

"Did you dream about the pond?" Ciro asked gently. Benito nodded.

"It was dark," he whimpered. "I could see you, but I couldn't reach you. I kept sinking…"

"It's all right, Beni. It was just a dream. C'mon." Ciro tried once more to urge the kitten back to the living room, but he only tightened his hold on his brother's arm, pulling back in protest. Ciro sighed, realizing he wasn't going to have any luck getting his brother to go back to the couch. "All right," he conceded. "You can stay here for tonight."

This seemed to ease the kitten's fears. He settled down onto the bed with his brother, pressing himself as close as he could to the larger cat. "Just for tonight," Ciro reminded him as he wrapped an arm around him.

0ooooooo0

Catalina was a bit startled when she noticed Benito wasn't sleeping on the couch the following morning. She walked across the hall to his and Víctor's bedroom but did not find him. She next checked in Ciro's room and suddenly cracked a grin at the sight that met her.

"Something that cute should be illegal." She approached the bed and shook Ciro's shoulder gently. His eyes fluttered open and he peered up at his mother. "Have a slumber party last night?"

"Beni had a bad dream," Ciro replied, yawning.

"Oh." Catalina reached over and tapped on Benito's shoulder. "Wake up, baby."

The kitten rolled over onto his back and looked up at his mother sleepily. He reached his arms out to her and she quickly picked him up, cradling him against her chest. "Are you feeling any better today?"

Benito made a low groaning sound, pressing his face into his mother's fur. "Time to bring on the fluids, I guess. Ciro, are you thirsty?"

Ciro nodded, noticing how dry his throat was the moment his mother asked the question.

"All right, I'll be right back."

0ooooooo0

That night, Benito had waited for his parents to finally slip off to bed before he climbed down from the couch and returned to his brother's room. This time he managed to sneak in and climb into bed with him without waking him. Only when Ciro awoke the next morning did he discover his little brother sleeping next to him.

"Beni!"

The kitten awoke with a start, turning to face his brother with wide eyes.

"Why are you sleeping in here, Benito? I told you last night that you could sleep with me just that one time. You can't make this into a habit."

Benito whimpered and turned away, forcing a guilty sigh from his older sibling.

"I'm not trying to be mean here, but you need to learn how to control your fears. You don't want to still be sleeping in here a year from now, do you?"

"Yes."

Ciro almost laughed. "I told you, Beni, dreams are nothing to be afraid of. They aren't real."

"But they look real. When I stay with you, I don't dream bad things."

"You can't keep sleeping in here, Beni."

"Why?!" the youngster cried, his voice beginning to crack. Before Ciro could ease him, he began to sob. Within moments, Emilio appeared in the doorway.

"What happened?"

"Ciro hates me!" Benito cried. Emilio curiously looked to his oldest son, knowing there was a logical explanation for the kitten's words.

"Benito's been having bad dreams and wants to sleep in here every night, but I keep trying to tell him he can't get into the habit of sleeping here," said Ciro, trying to reach out and comfort his sibling but was rejected. Emilio stepped into the room and went over to pick up the distressed kitten.

"Hush," he said, rubbing the kitten's back. "Ciro's right, you can't sleep in here every night."

Benito responded with a whimper.

"I'm sure once you're sleeping in your room again with Víctor, it'll be a bit easier for you."

"I wanna stay with Ciro!"

Emilio sighed. "Come on, let's go see Mami."

0ooooooo0

For the next few days, Benito continued the cycle of sneaking into Ciro's room as soon as his parents went to bed. Both Emilio and Catalina had decided to let it go, figuring once Benito was well enough to sleep in his and Víctor's room again, he wouldn't feel the need to sleep with Ciro. They figured in five days time, the illness would have run its course. Ciro reluctantly agreed to his parents' prediction and didn't fight Benito whenever he snuck into his room.

However, the first night Benito was back in his room with Víctor, he stuck to his routine of waiting until his parents had gone off to bed, and then sneaking out. He crawled over to the ladder once he was certain the coast was clear and climbed down from the top bunk. He toddled over to the partially opened door and pulled it open. He turned when he heard his brother rustling around under the covers.

"Where you going?" he asked, sitting up.

"Shh," Benito hissed before exiting the room. Víctor climbed out of bed and padded after him. They both crept down the hall and started to sneak into Ciro's bedroom, but as soon as they pushed the door open, they found their older sibling standing directly in front of them, looking down at them with a stern gaze and arms crossed.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you tonight," he said as he looked straight at Benito. He shifted his gaze to Víctor and frowned. "Now wait a minute, what are _you _doing here?"

"I was following Beni."

Ciro rubbed his forehead in aggravation, walking back over to his bed. "Both of you go back to your room right now."

"I don't wanna!" Benito whined. He climbed onto the bed and scooted closer to the older cat, staring up at him pleadingly. Víctor climbed onto the bed next.

"Víctor, why do you need to be in here? You're not the one who's scared!"

Víctor just shrugged. For him, it was a matter of not liking his brother being able to do something and not him. If Benito was going to sleep in Ciro's room, then so was he.

Ciro focused his attention on Benito again. "Beni, this has got to stop. You need to sleep in your own room!"

Benito shook his head rapidly, wrapping his arms around his brother as he fought back tears. "Beni…" Ciro sighed as he lifted the kitten and held him against his chest.

"No," the youngster squeaked, hiding his face in Ciro's neck. "I wanna stay here."

"You can't stay here forever."

"Please," the kitten begged.

"Ay," Ciro sighed. He placed Benito onto the bed and allowed himself to fall back against the pillow. "This is the last time, and I mean it, Beni."

The cream-colored kitten crawled up beside his brother and settled under his arm. Víctor climbed over his older sibling and settled against him on his other side. Ciro glanced at the two kittens and shook his head. He knew trying to get Víctor to leave would be an equally futile effort. He looked back over to Benito and secured his arm around him. "You need to learn to face your fears, Beni. Sleeping in here isn't going to solve the problem."

"But I'm not afraid when I'm with you."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I keep trying to tell you that."

"Yes, there is," Benito mumbled quietly to himself.

"Beni, dreams can't hurt you. Everyone has bad dreams sometimes, but they can't hurt you because they're not real, and as soon as you realize that, I'll bet the nightmares will stop. And I promise that I'm always going to be here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Whether anyone believes it or not, what happened was my fault, and I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"What if I'm still scared?" Benito whimpered after a short pause.

Ciro sighed. "I'll stay with you tomorrow night until you go to sleep, okay?"

Benito reluctantly nodded.

"Scaredy cat," Víctor teased the other youngster. Ciro lightly swatted him.

"Hush. This could have easily happened to you. Now go to sleep, both of you."

The two kittens finally quieted down and shut their eyes. Ciro held them close, sighing in slight annoyance.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Most of the events in this chapter were not originally written down. It was just recently that I had this idea to torture Benito. The main reason was that Benito shares a very close bond with Puss, and I figured maybe something happened when he was young to strengthen that closeness. Plus, in reality, bad things happen to kids, so yeah lol. The next chapter will mostly be a filler chapter, and then the story will start moving into more interesting aspects.

Special thanks to **Celestial-Kitsunei **for faving the story! And thanks for 1,000+ hits, everyone! I feel the need to thank Sweden personally. For the first couple of months this story was published, the USA has always had the highest hit count, and then the UK, but for the last few weeks, Sweden has been in second place. Seriously. I don't know, it just kind of surprised me. So…rock on Sweden! XD


	13. Feliz Navidad

Chapter XIII:  
**Feliz Navidad**

Ciro strung the garland that he and his brothers had made earlier around the small Christmas tree. Making the garland had been a somewhat difficult task considering it was made out of popcorn, which the kittens had happily eaten half of. Candy canes had been an option for decorations, but the family knew that every candy cane that managed to make it onto the tree wouldn't be there the next morning, and Ciro was certain the popcorn garland was no exception. Whether they were hungry or not, his brothers would eat anything in sight.

Once the garland was in place, the red tabby stood back and admired the little tree. It was a perfect fit for the small living room space. The top of the tree just barely brushed against the ceiling. The tree truly didn't need anymore decorations, but Ciro had mostly taken it upon himself to add on to the tree due to boredom.

Noticing one of the bulbs had fallen off the tree, he quickly went over to pick it up. As he hung the bulb back on the tree, he momentarily glanced outside through the translucent curtains, noticing something approaching the cottage. Curious, he pulled back the curtains to get a clear view, noticing a yellow, horse-drawn carriage gradually come to a stop in front of the cottage. "Papá, Aunt Marisa's cab just pulled up!"

Emilio hurried down the hallway, his wife close behind him. He opened the front door and rushed outside to meet his sister. The cab door opened and a gray tabby stepped out with a suitcase in one paw and a bag in the other.

"'Bout time you got here!" said Emilio, grinning broadly. He held his arms open for her, expecting her to come over and hug him, but she walked right past him. "Hey, what gives? No kiss for your big brother?"

"Pssh. Why would I kiss _that _ugly mug?" Spotting Ciro standing in the doorway, she sat down her bags and went over to hug him. "I'd much rather kiss this beautiful face right here," she said, kissing his cheek. "Amazing. Last time I saw you, you could hardly stand up. Now look at ya. A few more months and you'll be able to put your father in a headlock."

"Hey, don't give him any ideas."

Marisa shot Emilio a quick smirk before going over to embrace Catalina. "So how's my favorite sister-in-law?"

"Just happy to have another female in the house."

"I'll bet. Being surrounded by too much testosterone can really get to a girl. So, are you giving my brother hell?"

"Every day," the red female answered with a grin.

"That a girl."

"All right, are you going to get over here and give me a hug, or are you going to wait for the mailman to get here so you can hug him first, too?"

Marisa laughed, sauntering over to the black and white cat and embracing him tightly. "I'll let you get my bags."

"Oh, wonderful. I'll just throw them in the well for you."

"And I'll throw _you_ in there after 'em," Marisa shot back. She then rubbed her paws together anxiously. "Okay, where's those new ankle biters of yours?"

Catalina nodded for the other female to follow. One by one, the four felines filed inside, Emilio bringing up the rear. "So…married yet?" he asked teasingly.

"Shut up," his sister snapped.

"Benito, Víctor, your Auntie Marisa's here!" Catalina called. Within seconds, two little kittens toddled into view. Marisa beamed, kneeling and extending her arms out.

"Well, get your little butts over here and give your Aunt Mari a hug!"

The two kittens scampered over and embraced the gray feline, who pulled them tightly against her chest and smothered them with kisses.

"I heard _you _had a little misfortune with the pond," she said, pulling back to glance at Benito.

"Yeah," the youngster muttered, looking towards the floor. His aunt rubbed the top of his head and smiled.

"That's nothing. My curiosity really got the better of me when I was your age…and I ended up at the bottom of the well because of it."

"You fell in the well?!" Benito asked in astonishment.

"Yep. It was a miracle I didn't hit my head and knock myself unconscious."

"All right, all right, let's talk about something other than near death experiences, huh?" Emilio interrupted.

"Did you bring us anything?" Víctor asked hopefully, eyes shifting towards the bags that his father had carried inside.

"Víctor, that's not polite," said Catalina.

"Oh, what good's an aunt if she doesn't bring presents? Hand me that bag, Emilio."

Emilio handed the red bag over to his sister, who reached in and pulled out two neatly-wrapped gifts. She grinned when she saw the youngsters' eyes widen with joy. "Can we open them now?" Benito asked.

"Sure, have at it," said Emilio. Grinning, the kittens ran off to tear open their gifts. Marisa looked over at Ciro and smiled.

"Don't think I forgot you, handsome," she said and nodded for him to follow her into the living room. Ciro had a seat on the couch and watched as his aunt pulled out a small, green box tied with red ribbon. "Your father wrote to me about a month ago and told me about how you were going to carry on the tradition. So…I thought I'd make you something to sort of commemorate it."

Ciro took the little box from his aunt and pulled at the red ribbon. Lifting the lid, he curiously peeked inside. Furrowing his brow, he reached in and hooked his finger onto a loop and pulled out what looked to be a small, wooden boot. Immediately, Ciro started laughing.

"I hope you're laughing because you like it and not because I did a crappy job carving it?"

"No, I love it," Ciro managed to say through his laughter. Looking closely, he saw that his name had been carved into the little boot.

"Well…my father was a great carpenter, but clearly it's a skill that doesn't quite run in the family. Well, go ahead and put it on the tree."

Ciro stood up and went to place the little wooden ornament on an unoccupied tree branch. Meanwhile, Víctor and Benito were in the process of playing with their new gifts: a teddy bear for Benito and a rattling spinning top for Victor.

"Boys, what do you say?" said Catalina.

"Gracias, Aunt Mari," the kittens said in unison.

"De nada, sweeties."

"What'd you bring _me_?" asked Emilio, grinning.

"What, is my presence not enough of a gift for you?"

"Dream on."

Marisa smiled as she reached into the bag. She pulled out an elongated box that was addressed to Catalina, and then a more square-shaped box for Emilio.

"Oh, this is beautiful," said Catalina as she pulled a scarf from the box.

"Oh, boy…" Emilio grinned as he pulled a raggedy-looking stuffed raccoon from the box.

"_What _is _that?_" Catalina asked, staring at the toy in mild horror.

"My parents got it for me when I was a kitten."

"A rac_coon_?"

Emilio shrugged, still grinning. "Well, I liked it. I liked it 'cause it was funny-looking. Where did you find this, anyway?" he asked his sister.

"Found it in Mom's old trunk. I had a feeling you'd get a kick out of it."

Emilio continued to grin at the toy. "I had completely forgot about this thing."

"Mami! Mami!" Benito interjected suddenly.

"What is it, baby?"

"What does Santa Claus look like?" the child asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Catalina looked from her son to her mate, who seemed a bit surprised by the random question. "Well…funny you should ask that. Thing is, though, there's no real answer to that. If you were to ask a human that question, they'd probably tell you that he's also human, and that he's big, has a long beard and wears a red suit. But the thing is, Santa can take any form he wants."

"Really?" asked Víctor.

"Sure, he's magic. For generations, our family has always told the tale of a feline St. Nick, who wears a red hat, cravat, cape and boots. He always knows how to get around without being heard. The only clues he leaves behind are the gifts that he leaves. He's like a phantom."

"I've been told he's quite the looker, too," Marisa chimed in, grinning. "I wouldn't mind being caught under the mistletoe with him."

"I wanna see him!" said Benito.

"Nope, no can do. He knows when you're awake, and if you're awake, he won't come. So if you want presents, you need to go to sleep, got it? No fussing when your mother and I tell you to go to bed."

The children nodded.

0ooooooo0

"Hey, kiddo, you're in my bedroom," Marisa said as she came into the living room, a blanket secured under one arm and a pillow under the other.

"Oh, sorry," Ciro replied as he started to leave.

"Eh, you don't have to run off just yet." Marisa tossed the pillow onto the end of the couch and began unfolding the blanket. Her golden eyes shifted to the plate of cookies resting on the little table by the tree. "Hey, would you mind handing me one of those cookies?"

Ciro shook his head as he plucked one of the sugar cookies from the plate. "I don't think Santa would approve," he remarked as he handed the cookie to his aunt.

"Well, Santa will just have to get over it. What, the guy gets a billion cookies and I can't even have one?"

Ciro laughed, taking a seat on the couch. "I was kidding. No need to go on a tangent."

Marisa looked back at the little Christmas tree. "I might have to also snag some of that popcorn."

"Don't. I've nearly killed myself trying to keep Beni and Víctor away from it."

Marisa broke the cookie in half and tossed one half to her nephew. "So…are you excited about this tradition?" she asked.

Ciro shrugged. "I am…but now I'm starting to get a bit nervous. The more Papi says how hard it'll be, the more I feel like I won't be able to do it."

"Ah, you'll do fine. Sure, it's hard work, but any great achievement requires hard work. Nothing comes easy, kiddo."

"Mamá's not too thrilled about all this, though."

"Well, no surprise there. She's a mother, after all. It's her duty to worry about her babies. Our mother wasn't crazy about the tradition, either. She begged Emilio not to do it, and she became especially adamant about him not doing it after our father's death."

"How did Grandpa die?"

Marisa's brows knitted together. "You mean he hasn't told you?"

Ciro shook his head.

"Oh…well, if he hasn't told you, then I think it's best I not say anything. I'm sure he'll tell you in time. It's just probably very difficult for him. Death has never been an easy thing for him to talk about. I'm guessing he never told you about your Uncle Ernesto?"

Ciro shook his head again. Marisa sighed. "Well…I feel like I shouldn't tell you this, either, but when we were kittens, your Uncle Ernesto wandered away from the house one day and had a run in with a wild dog."

Ciro's breath hitched in his throat.

Marisa took a deep breath before continuing. "He was mauled to death. He was too young to defend himself, and he had wandered too far for our parents to get there in time to save him. After that, our mother was a wreck. If any of us so much as set foot outside the front door, she had a fit. She wouldn't let us out of her sight for a second. I think that was what first turned her off to the tradition. She had already lost one child, and she couldn't bear the idea of any more of her children willingly putting themselves in any danger. And then when your grandpa died, it was more than she could take. It's all very hard for your dad to talk about."

"He never told me about Octavio and Marisol, either. My mother ended up telling me about them a few months back."

"Well, it's hard for anyone, really. It's mainly why your Aunt Clara has sort of become a recluse. She was very close to Ernesto, and she adored your grandpa. After their deaths, she was never the same. She barely writes to us anymore."

"And Uncle León? Papá never told me much about him, and I never really bothered to ask."

"Well, after our father's death, León left for Spain. It was sort of his way of coping with his death. Our roots are in Spain, and to him it seemed like a good way to cope with the loss and sort of honor his memory in a way. We all mourn in different ways, after all. But he never came back. We worried about him for so long, but he sent us a letter after a couple of months, telling us that he was doing just fine and that he had no plans of coming back.

"So with our brother, León running away to Spain and our sister secluding herself from everyone, we had truly lost _three_ siblings. After that, your father and I became real close, closer than we'd ever been."

"Whatever happened to Grandpa…it was bad, wasn't it?"

Marisa nodded. "But that's all I'm going to tell you. I'm pretty sure your father's just waiting to tell you everything. I think it's best that he be the one to tell you, anyway." Marisa leaned in and kissed Ciro on the face. "All right, let's get to sleep."

0ooooooo0

Benito shot straight up the moment his eyes opened. The room was bright with the light of a new day, and that meant one thing: it was Christmas, and there were presents just waiting to be opened.

Realizing this, the kitten threw off his covers and climbed down the latter, slipping on the rungs as he went. He grabbed a discarded pillow and threw it as his sleeping sibling. "Víctor, wake up! It's Christmas!" he shrieked, jumping up and down excitedly. Ordinarily, the other kitten would have griped at his brother for daring to wake him up, but the circumstances were different this time. He managed to get himself untangled from the blankets and stumbled out of bed after his brother, his brown eyes wide and bright. He tore down the hallway and into his parents' room, yelling for them to get up.

"It's Christmas!" he shouted. He pulled at the covers, earning a few disgruntled words from his parents. "Get up! Mami, Papi, get up!"

While Víctor was busy with their parents, Benito had made a beeline for Ciro's room, throwing himself up onto the bed and yanking the covers off his still sleeping sibling. "Get up, Ciro! It's Christmas! Get up, get up, get up!"

"Oh, come on, Beni," the older cat mumbled into his pillow, reaching his paw out in search of his unwillingly discarded blanket.

"Get up!" Benito shouted again, shoving his brother.

"All right, I'm up! Now get off!"

Benito grinned and threw himself off his brother's bed, racing out of the bedroom and into the living room where he found his aunt still lying on the couch, blanket nearly covering her face.

"Aunt-"

"I'm already awake, you little rascal, so don't even think about jumping on me," Marisa growled, peeking her head up from underneath the blanket to grin at the kitten. Benito grinned back briefly before whirling around and making a dash for the presents under the tree. Victor appeared seconds later, taking a spot on the floor by his brother. "You kids are ruthless. Don't you want to save the paper?"

"No one ever saves the paper, you know that," Emilio commented as he made his way into the room, Catalina following close behind him. "People say they'll save it, but they never do."

Marisa grinned at the two cats as she brought herself into a sitting position. "Feliz Navidad!" she greeted cheerfully.

Ciro was the last into the room, eyes half-closed.

"Looks like you could have used one more hour, huh?" Marisa asked as the young tabby plopped down on the couch.

"Feliz Navidad, mijo," Catalina said to her son as she leaned down to kiss his head.

"Feliz Navidad, Mamá," Ciro replied back, trying to resist the urge to yawn as he spoke.

Emilio shot his wife a quick smirk as he went over to the tree and picked up two small boxes from the floor. Catalina watched him with suspicious eyes as he came toward her, holding out one of the boxes. She frowned. "I thought we agreed that we weren't going to get each other anything?"

Emilio shrugged. "I had my fingers crossed."

Catalina rolled her eyes, taking the box from her grinning husband. "Emilio, I could just slap you."

Emilio held out the second box to his sister. "And so you don't whine about being left out…" he joked.

Marisa reached out and snatched the little box, eagerly yanking at the ribbon. She made a face when she pulled out a pair of earrings, which instantly brought her brother to laughter. "It's kind of a joke," he said. "I happen to recall a certain rebellious sister of mine piercing her ears when Mami and Papi said not to."

Marisa snorted. "Oh, right. Dad nearly throttled me for that, and my ears paid a painful price." Marisa examined the earrings a bit more closely. "They _are _pretty, though." She chuckled. "Maybe they'll help me finally land a date."

"Oh…" Catalina whispered, unable to form words as she pulled the necklace from the box. She ran her thumb along the amber-colored pendant, marveling at the decorative frame that secured it.

"I take it you like it?"

Catalina draped the chain over her paw, eyes raking over every last intricate detail of the necklace. She tried to force a smile as she looked up at her mate. "Yes, it's beautiful."

Emilio took the necklace and brought it up to his wife's neck, snapping the clasp together. "I know you don't have a lot of jewelry."

Catalina reached up a paw and fondled the pendant, unsure of what to say.

"Hey, aren't you going to open a present?" Marisa asked as she patted Ciro's shoulder. "Or are you still trying to come to life?"

"I'll get around to it."

"Well, I've got something that I want you and your brothers to open together," Emilio said as he went back to the tree to fetch three rectangular shaped boxes. Víctor and Benito watched their father with wide, curious eyes, their faces splitting into wide grins when they were handed their gifts. Emilio returned to the couch and handed the third box to Ciro. All three children opened their gifts to find a collection of winter accessories: scarves, gloves, hats and booties, each set of a different color. "I know how much you kids wanted to go outside and play while it was snowing, but we felt that it was just too cold. Well…now you're all set."

Víctor and Benito were beside themselves with excitement at hearing this. "Can we go outside now?" Víctor asked eagerly, already pulling his hat onto his head.

"Don't you think you should have some breakfast first?" said Catalina.

"We wanna go outside and play!" Benito protested.

"All right but just for a few minutes. After that, you're going to eat something," said Emilio. In a matter of seconds, the two kittens had themselves dressed and were racing for the front door. "Ciro, hurry up and get out there. That snow's so deep, those two are liable to get lost in it."

Ciro nodded, grinning to himself at the mental image of the two kittens stepping out into the snow, and then falling right through it. Once he was bundled up, he headed outside after his brothers.

"I'll go out there, too," said Marisa, getting up from the couch. "I can handle a little cold."

Emilio started to follow after his sister, but Catalina quickly reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. "Emilio…this necklace," she began, reaching her paw up to touch the pendant as she spoke. "…You didn't buy it with that money, did you?"

Emilio shrugged. "What does it matter?"

"I just want to know. Did you?"

"No."

"You're lying."

"Okay, I'm lying."

Catalina frowned. "So you _did _use that money?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No."

Catalina slammed her fist into the couch. "Damn it, Emilio! This isn't a joke! Be serious and answer me honestly!"

The male's head fell back as he laughed, and Catalina's frown only deepened. "Relax, mi amor. I saved up the money I received working for James. Are you saying that if I _had _used that money, you'd yank that necklace off and toss it in the well?"

"Maybe. You still won't tell me where you got that money, so I'm willing to bet there's a bounty on that stupid head of yours."

"Cat, please…it's Christmas."

The red cat sighed, rising to her feet. "I'm going to go get started on breakfast."

* * *

**Author's Note: **DURR HURR. Predictable chapter title is predictable! I couldn't think of what else to call it.

I finally posted Benito's portrait to my DA account the other day. Victor's will come next, and then that'll be the last one for a while. I plan on doing more portraits for other characters, but since they haven't appeared yet, I'm not going to worry about them right now.

Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Please keep them coming! They're a big inspiration!


	14. Training: Part I

Chapter XIV:  
**Training - Part I**

Marisa knocked on Ciro's bedroom door once before pushing it open all the way. She spotted her nephew in the process of making his bed.

"Well, it's time for me to hit the trail," she said. "My cab's waiting outside for me." She sat her bag down and extended her arms out to hug Ciro. Her nephew turned and embraced her tightly, smiling sadly.

"I wish you were staying longer."

"Yeah, well, I must continue with the seemingly never-ending quest of trying to find a mate," the gray tabby joked. "Good luck with everything. Don't let your old man push you around too much." The female secured her scarf around her neck and bent down to pick up her bag. "And listen, about your grandpa…you may end up having to persuade your dad to tell you the truth. I know my brother, and he'll always try to avoid talking about these things, but don't let him do that, because you deserve to know."

Ciro only nodded, looking towards the floor.

"All right, well I'll see you later," Marisa said as she leaned in and kissed her nephew on the head.

"Adios."

Once his aunt had left the room, Ciro sat down on the edge of his bed, which creaked loudly in response. Somehow he knew that what his aunt had said was true, and at some point he would have to drag the truth out of his father.

0ooooooo0

_Five weeks later…_

When Ciro finally opened his eyes, he knew from the amount of light in the room that it was getting closer to being in the afternoon. He furrowed his brows upon noticing a weight on the bed. He twisted his head around to glance over his shoulder, finding his father sitting on the edge of his bed, grinning widely.

"Can I help you?" Ciro asked groggily.

Emilio's smile grew wider. "You know what today is, don't you?"

Ciro looked a bit confused for a moment but after catching himself up with the month and date, realization quickly set in, and a smile tugged at his lips. "It's my birthday," he answered as he threw back the covers and slowly sat up, reaching his arms over his head to stretch.

"That's right, but it's a bit more special than I think you realize."

"Why is that?" Ciro asked as he slid out of bed. His father rose to his feet, his grin remaining as he watched his son go over to pull back the curtains.

"Because, mijo, it is your coming of age, and for the eldest Delgado, it holds an even greater importance."

Ciro whipped his head around, his paws still clutching the curtains. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked. Emilio continued grinning, flashing his teeth.

"Today marks your first day as an adult, and now that you've reached adulthood, you're ready to start your training."

Ciro nearly fell over upon hearing this. A wide grin cracked his face, but it vanished just as quickly as it had come. "Wait, I don't understand. If it was just a matter of waiting for my first birthday in order to begin my training, why didn't you just tell me that? The anticipation was killing me."

Emilio shrugged. "Well, that was kind of for my own amusement."

"Gee, thanks. So am I starting today?"

Emilio laughed. "No, son. Today is a day of celebration. We'll start your training in a couple of days. I know you can wait a couple of days, can't you?"

Ciro nodded and shrugged, the smile remaining. "I guess. What will I be doing the first day?"

"Well, I'll tell you when we get started, but what you're going to be doing, we'll be using the barn for it, which is good considering it's going to be pretty cold outside. It won't be quite as cold in the barn."

"All right, then."

Emilio stretched his arm out and pulled his son in for a hug. "Happy birthday." He patted his back and nodded for them to leave the room. "Let's go stuff our faces."

0ooooooo0

When Ciro entered the kitchen, he spotted his siblings already seated at the dinner table. They grinned at him, as did his mother when she took notice of him. She made her way towards him, reaching out and wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "Feliz cumpleaños, mijo!" she said.

"Gracias, Mamá."

"I was going to make a birthday dinner, but then I knew no one would have any room for cake and to not have cake during a birthday party is just wrong, so why don't we just skip all that and get right to the good stuff?"

"Sounds good to me," Ciro replied as he took a seat at the table.

"It's all down hill from here, son," Emilio teased as he patted his son on the shoulder. Catalina approached the table with a large vanilla cake gripped in both paws.

"I know it's a little lopsided," she said, "but I'm the one who baked it, so what do you expect?"

Ciro grinned. "Well, that's what makes it special."

Víctor reached out a paw to try and scoop a dollop of icing on his finger, but Catalina was quick to swat his paw away. There was a sudden scratch of a match being struck. Emilio leaned in and lit the single candle placed within the thick layer of white icing covering the surface of the cake. Ciro stared at the flickering flame, barely listening as his family broke out in song. He felt a bit lightheaded, as he was overwhelmed by every emotion possible. Of course this was nothing he hadn't felt in the months leading up to this day, but knowing now that the real work was about to begin was not only exhilarating, it was also terrifying.

The young cat barely noticed as the song came to an end, which was succeeded by his mother urging to make a wish. As he stared at the dancing flame, the only thing he could wish for was that he lived up to his father's expectations, and that he didn't disappoint him.

He took a deep breath and blew out the candle.

0oooooooo0

Emilio held the barn door open, nodding for the little horse to go outside to roam around. The horse trotted past him and Emilio then nodded for his son to follow him inside, quickly shutting the barn doors behind them. "All right, you see those rafters up there? That's where you're going to start."

"What am I doing, exactly?"

"We're going to work on your balance."

"Balance? Why? Is there something wrong with the way I walk?"

Emilio chuckled. "No, son, but you never know what your settings will be if you ever find yourself in combat. You might find yourself teetering on the edge of a cliff for all you know. Oh…and whatever you do, don't tell your mother I said that, or she'll mount my head above the fireplace."

Ciro stared up at the rafters, a look of slight disappointment on his face. "I was hoping you were going to teach me how to fight with a sword."

"We'll get to that, mijo, but you have to work your way up first."

"When _will _I start working with a sword?"

Emilio sighed. "That'll be last on the list." The older cat grinned slightly at his son's look of frustration. "Just be patient. You want to be good at it, right?"

The red cat nodded.

"Well then, this will help you." Emilio nodded towards the ladder. "Now let's get started."

Ciro nodded and made his way towards the ladder. Sword fighting or not, he was just happy that the training process had finally started. He pulled himself onto the rafter and straightened himself up, the newfound height making him slightly nervous. He knew it was a myth that cats always landed on their feet, and so he hoped that if he did fall, the hay laid out across the barn floor would cushion the fall, if just a little.

"All right, now what I want you to do is hold your arms out and walk the rafter very slowly. Keep your head down and watch where you step."

Ciro nodded and extended his arms outward. Looking down at the narrow plank of wood, he slowly took one step forward, and then brought his right foot directly in front of the left. His steps were slow at first, but he began to increase his pace as his confidence grew.

"Slow down, not so fast," said Emilio. Ciro shifted his attention to his father as he spoke. "Don't look at me! Keep your eyes on the rafter!"

Ciro quickly returned his attention to the rafter again, but he started to sway, losing his balance and falling to the right. He quickly shot his paw out and sank his claws into the wood, saving himself from the fall.

"Okay, get back up there," he heard his father say. He sighed and swung one of his hind legs up, unsheathing his claws and gripping the edge of the rafter. He pulled himself up and stood up for a second try, feeling rather embarrassed. "I'll take the blame for that one," his father reassured. "I made you nervous when I shouted."

"How much time will we spend doing this?"

"It depends. Maybe a week, or maybe a little longer. It all depends on how fast you learn."

_A week walking across a rafter?_ Ciro thought irritably with a sigh. He extended his arms again, determined not to let his focus go astray this time. He placed one foot in front of the other slowly and continued with the other. Step by step, he slowly made his way across the rafter, forgetting his father was even in the barn. When he finally made it to the other side, he let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding.

"All right, now walk back," he heard his father say. He extended his arms out again and started to walk back, his pace a bit quicker. Halfway across, he lost his balance again and fell, unable to grab onto the rafter this time. He managed to maneuver his body around and landed on all fours with a soft thud. "That was bound to happen," Emilio commented.

Ciro's tail began to swish rapidly as he marched back to the ladder. "Calm down," said Emilio. "Don't get frustrated. You've only been at this for five _minutes_. If you let yourself get mad, you're just going to keep screwing up."

Ciro took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as he gripped the rungs of the ladder. His father was right. He was letting himself get frustrated too easily, and he had only just started. It was suddenly clear to him that meditation was definitely something he would be turning to as his training progressed.

0ooooooo0

After two days, falling had not been as big an issue as it had been the previous days. Ciro managed to walk across the rafter several times without falling, and now he was able to actually keep his focus straight ahead rather than on his feet. His father watched with an anxious gaze, trying to keep from speaking as much as possible, not wanting to break the younger cat's focus. Once he saw the red tabby make it to the other side, he nodded his approval.

"All right, now you're going to try something different. I want you to fold your arms behind your back and try to walk across."

Ciro looked down at his father with uncertainty. "But…how will I keep myself balanced?"

"You've got a tail, don't you? Use it. You think it's just there for show?"

Ciro rolled his eyes. "All right, Papi. No need for sarcasm," he replied. He pulled his arms behind his back, hesitating for a moment before taking the first step. So far, this had been the hardest part of the session. He had fallen off the rafter before he could even make it halfway across, though he luckily landed on his feet. Upon his second try, he lost his balance again fairly quickly but managed to keep from completely falling off. It was rather embarrassing to say the least. Cats were supposed to be excellent at keeping their balance, and every time he swayed or fell, he felt like a drunk.

"Remember, don't get frustrated," Emilio reminded him. Ciro only nodded.

Within an hour's time, he had finally managed to walk across the rafter three times without falling. Pleased, his father instructed him to go ahead and climb down.

"Is that it?" Ciro asked as he slowly made his way down the ladder. "Can we move on to something else?"

"No, we're still going to work on balance for a couple more days."

Ciro sighed.

"Look, you're learning this stuff pretty fast. It took me almost two weeks to finally get through the balancing portion of the training. Good balance is essential in sword fighting, son." He clapped his son on the back. "Come on, we'll pick this up tomorrow."

0ooooooo0

By the next morning, Ciro was already patiently waiting in the barn for his father, leaning casually against the ladder.

"Ready?" Emilio asked as he held up a book in one paw.

"Let me guess, I'm going to balance the book on my head while I walk across the rafter, right?" Ciro asked dully.

"No, you're going to _read_ the book while balancing a glass of _water_ on your head."

Ciro rolled his eyes, snatching the book from his father's paw. "You're not that funny, Papi." Ciro tucked the book under his arm and made his way up the ladder. Once at the top, he knew right away that he would probably be at this all day and probably tomorrow as well. Having to constantly retrieve the book was going to especially slow him down.

He stepped out onto the rafter and carefully placed the book atop his head, trying his best to lay it right in the center. He slowly pulled his paws away, and once he was certain it was level, he carefully took one step forward. Once he started to take that second step, the book slid forward, and he scrambled to catch it but ended up losing his footing and falling to the floor with the book.

"This is going to be a nightmare," he groaned as he stood up straight. His father bent down and picked up the book.

"No one said it'd be easy," he said, handing the book out to the younger cat.

It took several hours for Ciro to really start to make any progress. At one point, he managed to make it across without the book falling off, but he had yet to do it twice in a row. Three was the magic number for Emilio. Only when Ciro managed to succeed with something three times in a row did he deem him properly trained, and so far, it didn't look like he was going to hit that magic number. It had taken him two hours to actually make it across just once.

"I'm tired," said the tabby after a grueling four hours. "And hungry," he added.

"You can keep at it a bit longer," said Emilio.

"Papi, I've only had two breaks and I haven't eaten a thing."

"I want to see you walk across that rafter one more time without dropping the book. Once you do that, _then _we'll stop."

"But Papi-"

"You heard me."

Ciro frowned deeply. He had noticed since yesterday that his father had become a lot pushier, and it was starting to rub him the wrong way. He didn't like for his father to overestimate what his limits were, as he _knew _what his limits were, and he knew that he had exceeded them, but he didn't want to argue with his father. He placed the book back on his head and tried to make his way across the rafter for the umpteenth time.

"Don't look at your feet!" his father shouted, causing him to jump. The book fell to the floor while Ciro fought to keep his balance. His father growled as he went over to pick up the book.

"Well, I wouldn't have dropped it if you hadn't yelled!" Ciro defended himself before Emilio had a chance to complain.

"Don't look at your feet. I don't know how many times I've told you that."

"Well, I didn't think it was a big deal. When I first started, you _wanted _me to look at where I stepped."

"Yes, to help get you started, but now you have to learn how to _not _look where you step. When you're fighting an opponent, you can't look at your feet. You have to know how to keep yourself balanced without taking your eyes off your enemy!"

"I'm sorry, all right?!" the younger cat shouted. He then started muttering incoherently in Spanish.

"What did you say?" his father asked sharply.

"Nothing."

"Just remember, I speak Spanish, too, kiddo. If you want to smart off to me without me knowing, then you're going to have to learn how to speak French. Now get down here and get this book and try again."

Ciro did as his father instructed, though he knew he was only going to keep screwing up more frequently. Only when Catalina came outside and urged for them to come inside did Emilio finally give in, much to Ciro's relief.

0ooooooo0

Balancing with the book continued the next day. Within the first hour, Ciro managed to make it across the rafter without dropping the book but failed to do it a second time. It was becoming harder and harder for him to keep his frustration under control, especially with his overly critical father. Walking across the rafter three times without dropping the book was beginning to look more and more like a long-ranged dream.

After a couple of hours, Catalina had worked up the courage to finally come out to the barn to watch. She leaned against the doorframe, fanning herself with her red and black fan.

"Keeping an eye on me?" Emilio asked after a few minutes.

"Well, I have to make sure you're not overdoing it with him."

"Why are you fanning yourself?"

Catalina shrugged. "I'm hot."

"But it's February."

"Well…I don't know! Maybe you knocked me up again and I'm having hot flashes!"

Emilio snorted. "No, you're just worried out of your mind about Ciro. I've noticed every time you get nervous about something, you go straight for that fan to keep you occupied…and if you can't find your fan, then you annoy the hell out of me."

Catalina crinkled her nose in annoyance, fanning herself a bit more rapidly. She lifted her gaze up to the rafter where her son resided.

"Ciro, why don't you come inside and eat something?"

Ciro's face instantly brightened at the thought of food.

"He'll come in when he manages to make it across that rafter a second time," Emilio asserted sternly.

"Emilio, he's hungry. He can come back out here once he's had something to eat. Come on, Ciro."

Ciro started to make his way for the ladder, but Emilio quickly rejected. "I said _no! _He'll eat when he's earned it!"

"_Earned _it?" Catalina growled with malice. She quickly looked up at Ciro, who looked absolutely lost at what to do. "Go inside, Ciro," she said to him before returning her glare to her husband. The younger cat quickly made a mad dash for the ladder before his father could protest again. Once he was down the ladder and out of the barn, Catalina quickly folded her fan and swatted Emilio over the head with it.

"Ow!"

"What the hell is the matter with you? So now eating is a privilegethat can only be earned through how well he does with his training?"

"I'm just trying to motivate him!"

"Well, clearly, you don't know a lick about motivation. He _needs _to eat. He'll be able to focus better if he has food in his stomach."

"If he eats, he'll want to sleep!"

Catalina rolled her eyes. "Right, because everyone know how unhealthy sleep is," she growled sarcastically. "I'm sure our son will be able to work better when he's feeling sluggish and can barely hold his head up. Look, if he wants to sleep, then let him sleep! He'll be able to focus more after he's had something to eat and a decent rest."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" Catalina shot back over her shoulder as she made her way out of the barn, leaving her husband to curse and complain to himself.

0ooooooo0

Catalina peeked into Ciro's bedroom, finding her son lying on the bed with his back facing her. "Are you asleep?"

"No."

Catalina came in and sat down on the bed, eying Ciro with concern. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Something you want to talk about?"

"Papi's really getting on my nerves.

"Welcome to my world," Catalina replied jokingly.

Ciro finally sat up to face his mother. "It's like I can't do anything right in his eyes. He only notices when I mess up…and this is supposed to be the _easy _stuff. He can never acknowledge when I've done anything right. I dread how he's going to act when I start learning the harder stuff."

"Well…I'll see if I can't straighten him out. You just focus on getting some sleep. You look like you need it."

Catalina exited the bedroom and headed for the front door, knowing Emilio was somewhere outside. Seeing the dim glow of light coming from the partially opened barn doors, she instantly knew that was where she'd find him. Sure enough, when she walked through the doors, she found him brushing out Paco's mane, though the little horse really didn't look like he needed any grooming.

"Are you going to sleep out here, too?" Catalina asked, folding her arms over her chest. "You've been out here for an hour."

Emilio remained silent, ears flattening against his head.

"Well, I guess someone's still mad at me."

The male sighed in defeat. "You were right, okay? Are you happy now? Would you like a medal?"

"Well, of course I'm right. I'm always right."

"Don't push it."

Emilio turned and dropped the brush into the wooden box by his feet. He gave the horse a gentle pat and it walked on to the other side of the barn. Catalina approached him and placed her paws on his shoulders. "Why have you been acting so crazy?"

"Because I see so much potential in him. My father wanted me to be greater than him, and I want Ciro to surpass _me_, and I know he can. He can be something great, and I just want to push him to achieve it."

"Even if it means him losing his respect for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're driving him crazy, Emilio! If you don't watch it, he's going to sneak into the bedroom one of these nights and smother you with a pillow. And don't think I'll try and stop him. Hell, I'll just watch."

"So he doesn't expect me to critique him while he's learning?"

"No, he's frustrated because _all_ you seem to be doing is critiquing him. All he hears is criticism from you, never any acknowledgment of when he does something right."

"If I compliment him, then he's just going to get cocky, and then he'll screw up even more."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," Catalina sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I know what I'm talking about."

"Please, you wouldn't know your butt from a hole in the ground!"

Emilio growled as he snatched the lantern from the hook on the wall. "I'm going inside," he snapped.

Catalina followed her husband out, and he quickly closed the barn doors. "Is this how your father was when _you _did this?"

Emilio slipped the plank of wood through the latch on the doors before looking back over his shoulder. "Yes, actually."

"And did you like that?"

"He was right to be tough," the male countered quickly.

"Answer the question."

Emilio shook his head as he started for the cottage, but Catalina managed to grab him by the arm and pull him back. "Tell me."

"No, I didn't."

"Then don't be like that with your son. Be fair; criticize him where criticism is needed but compliment him where it's deserved, too. If you do that, then he'll likely want to work harder to _keep _getting compliments. It's either that or risk him killing you in your sleep. It's up to you." Catalina grinned before kissing her mate on the cheek, then nodded for them both to go inside.

"You really make my life difficult," her husband said with a heavy sigh.

"That's what I'm here for."

0ooooooo0

The next day, Ciro was hardly looking forward to picking up with the training. His dad's forceful attitude had been anything but pleasurable for the last two days, and the fact that training was far from over made it feel like he was walking the plank of a pirate ship. However, it wasn't the training, it was his father that made it a living nightmare. He hoped his mother might have been able to convince him to lighten up, otherwise he was going to have to thicken his skin tenfold.

Ciro smiled lightly at his father as he entered the barn, barely making eye contact. His father silently handed him the book and nodded for him to climb to the rafter. Ciro obeyed without protest, self-doubt becoming heavier. Standing completely erect, Ciro placed the book atop his head and slowly started across the rafter, almost afraid to breathe. As he edged closer and closer to the other side, his heart accelerated. Just a bit further…

"Good!" he heard his father commend as he made it all the way across. Ciro was so overcome with relief at having not dropped the book that he hardly noticed that his father had actually acknowledged his accomplishment. Once he did, he momentarily considered pinching himself. "All right, now try to make it back across."

"Let my heart get back into my chest first," Ciro replied. His father stifled a laugh. Ciro took a deep breath before placing the book back on his head and trying for a second attempt across the rafter. He managed to make it more than halfway when the book slipped backwards and fell to the ground. "Damn it," the red cat growled.

"Take it easy," his father eased as he picked up the book. "You almost made it."

Ciro snarled and cursed as he climbed down the ladder. "That book is one more fall away from being burned," he snapped. Emilio grinned, handing him the book. "Couldn't I just try to make it across twice?"

"No, I want it to be three."

"You're killing me, Papi," Ciro groaned, turning for the ladder.

"I told you this wouldn't be easy."

"No kidding."

Ciro continued with his attempts for well over an hour. Twice he had managed to nearly make it across successfully for a third time but would end up dropping the book right at the last moment.

"Try to keep your excitement in check. You're getting a bit too anxious right at the last minute," Emilio pointed out, which Ciro acknowledged. After a short break, they carried on with the lesson for another hour before going inside for lunch, originally planning to pick up where they left off after eating, but then deciding to just wait and continue in the morning.

0ooooooo0

The next day was successful. Ciro finally reached his goal and made it across the rafter for the third time, the book perfectly balanced. It was all the cat could do to keep from doing back flips in celebration of his success.

"Finally!" he cheered. "Can I get rid of this thing now?" he asked as he waved the book around. His father flashed a somewhat sheepish grin.

"You're not done with that thing yet."

Ciro blinked. "You're kidding."

"I'm afraid not. Now I want you to do the same thing again…only this time, you can't take the book off your head once you make it across. You are to walk across the rafter three times without ever removing the book."

Ciro stared blankly at his father for a few moments before replying, "What did I ever do to you?"

Emilio had to allow himself to laugh. "I assure you, once you accomplish this, you can toss the book. Considering you've been working on your balance for almost a week now, I have a feeling you'll get this pretty quick."

0ooooooo0

Ciro had been thoroughly surprised that his father had been right. He had been certain that'd it'd be days before he'd manage to successfully walk across the rafter repeatedly _without _removing the book. To him, the task just seemed impossible, but it had only taken a day. After the tenth try, he had succeeded, and he _did, _literally,toss the book.

"Please tell me we're through with balance."

"Not yet, mijo but almost."

"Ay," the younger cat groaned.

"You're getting there," his father said as he walked a few feet off to his left and retrieved a bucket of rocks that he had collected. "But what you're about to do involves not just balance, but also being able to act fast when it really counts."

"What are those for?"

"You'll see." Emilio nodded up at the rafter. "Get up there."

Ciro eyed the rocks with suspicion, reluctantly turning and heading for the ladder. Once on the rafter, he nervously shifted his attention back down to his father.

"Ready?"

"For what?"

Emilio grinned before grabbing a rock and hurling it towards his son, who dropped flat onto the rafter in the nick of time. "What are you doing?!" he shouted.

"Training you," his father replied, grinning mischievously. "Back on your feet."

"By throwing rocks at me?!" Ciro snapped, standing up straight again.

"Yep." Emilio chucked a second rock.

"Oh, Dios!" Ciro leapt to the side as the rock sailed by, barely brushing his fur. "And the purpose of this?!"

"Simple. Imagine these rocks as dangerous weapons. If you think a rock flying at you is scary, imagine a dagger spinning through the air at you. You need to know how to act fast, because you only have precious seconds to make a move. What you do with those seconds determines whether you live or die."

"Oh, how nice," Ciro growled. He yelped as his father chucked another rock his way, and then another. Eventually the rocks were coming within seconds of each other, and it became nearly impossible to dodge them all. Ciro finally ended up taking one in the corner of his eye. "Damn it!" he cried, fighting to hold his balance.

"Watch the language."

"Oh forgive me, I was just pelted in the eye by a rock!"

"That would have been pretty ugly if that had been a knife," his father stated with a smirk, tossing a smooth stone into the air and catching it casually. He then drew back his arm and flung the stone at a lightening fast speed. Ciro only had enough time to turn around before the rock could strike him in the face and was instead struck in the back of the head. "The idea is to not let the rock hit you _period,_ Ciro."

"Well, I barely had time to jump out of the way!"

"But you still had time. In situations like this, you have to react without even taking the time to think about it. It should become an involuntary response."

"Easier said than done."

"Well, that's what training is for."

Ciro's tail twitched in agitation. "I'm starting to miss the book already."

* * *

**Author's Note: **72 reviews! You guys are awesome! Only 28 to go until I hit 100 :D Sorry to sound like a review whore. It's just always exciting to finally hit the 100 marker ^^

I don't know if everyone has seen the full Shrek Forever After trailer yet, but I must have watched it a thousand times by now. I'm definitely hopeful for this movie. It honestly looks better than the third. But even if it bombs, it'll be worth seeing Puss as a fat ass. Holy ass crackers, nothing could be more hilarious than that. Well…besides Puss having to ask to borrow Donkey's tongue XD


	15. Training: Part II

Chapter XV:  
**Training - Part II**

There was a soft knock at the bedroom door, and Ciro rolled onto his side, muttering a quiet, "Come in." The door slowly opened, and Catalina poked her head in.

"Just checking to make sure your father hasn't killed you yet," she said half-heartedly.

"Not yet, but death is starting to look pretty good right about now."

Catalina grinned as she had a seat on the edge of the bed. "You look pretty worn out."

Ciro shrugged as he sat up. "Well, I think I'm starting to build a better mental stamina for all this."

"Well, I'm glad_ you _have, because I sure haven't. I'll be glad when this is all over."

"Yeah…but then once I'm done, I'll be departing from home, remember?"

"Not if I shackle your feet together first," his mother quipped.

Ciro sighed, smiling softly. "Mom, why do you have to worry so much?"

Catalina smiled, reaching out a paw to cup her son's face. "Because I'm your mother, and that is my job, and it's a job I can't afford to fail, because the price would be too high." The female moved her paw around to rub the back of her son's head and instantly frowned. "What in the world…? Honey, you've got a goose egg back here," she said in alarm.

Ciro grinned sheepishly, moving a paw around to rub the bump on his head. "Oh…well, I hit my head on a rock."

"Really? How did that happen?"

"Well…my head just happened to be in the way when it was flying through the air at me."

"Flying…through the _air _at you? What are you talk…" Catalina's words trailed off as her eyes narrowed in realization. "EMILIO!" she yelled.

"Oh, c'mon, Mami, it's not a big deal. Don't kill him."

"Don't worry, I'll make it quick. He won't feel a thing."

Emilio appeared in the doorway within seconds. "You bellowed?" he asked casually, not at all surprised to have his wife angry at him about something.

"Rocks, Emilio? You're throwing _rocks _at him?"

Emilio stared at his mate briefly before then turning a disgruntled gaze to his son. "You just had to tell her, didn't you?"

"He didn't have to. I just happened to notice the giant bump on his head! This is just stupid, Emilio! Hitting him with _rocks_?!"

"It's to help him master his dodging."

Catalina snorted. "Well, I hope you haven't gotten rusty on _your _dodging over the years, because I have a few ideas on what I can hit _you _over the head with."

"You're really abusive, you know that?"

"Oh, _I'm _abusive?!" Catalina cried defensively, slapping her paws against her chest. "You're using my baby for target practice, and you think _I'm _abusive?!"

Unable to contain himself, Ciro started to chortle quietly to himself. His father shot him a warning glare. "Hey, quit laughing!"

Catalina shook her head. "You know, I was wondering what on Earth you were doing when you were out there collecting all those stones. I should have put two and two together. I'm just surprised you didn't save yourself the trouble and use the rocks in your head to throw at him." The female growled as she stood up to the leave the room. "I'm going to start dinner," she snapped as she walked past her mate, or rather bumped him out of the way.

Once the female had exited the room, Emilio finally laughed. "The weird thing is she kind of turns me on when she gets like that. Come to think of it, I think _you _were the result of a huge fight we had. One minute we were screaming at each other, and then the next-"

"Please stop," Ciro cut in quickly, looking repulsed. Emilio smirked playfully, approaching his son and touching the back of his head. "Hmm…that _is _a pretty big bump, isn't it?" His face softened with guilt. "Sorry about that."

Ciro shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"Tell that to your mother." The older cat sighed. "You know…I should probably go help her with dinner," he said as he turned to leave the room.

Ciro chuckled. "You just want to make sure she doesn't slip something in your food."

"Pretty much."

0ooooooo0

Dodging the rocks had been the worst of his training experience, and knowing that it was behind him gave Ciro a great sense of satisfactory, but he wondered if it was only going to get worse from there. When he spotted his father standing outside of the barn with his arms tucked behind his back, he wasn't sure what to expect.

"'Morning," his father greeted as usual.

"Hi. What are we working on today?"

Emilio began to pace slowly, stroking the beard-like patch of white fur on his chin. "What would you say the advantages of being a cat are?"

Ciro had expected to get straight to work, not a question and answer session. He pondered for a few second before shrugging and answering, "We're agile."

Emilio nodded. "Si, si…What else?"

"Well…we have excellent eyesight."

"Aha! Yes, we do. In fact, all our senses are advanced. Our sense of sound and smell are just as good as our sight. In battle, it helps to be able to see your enemy, but it's also important that you can hear your enemy as well. So…" Emilio grabbed Ciro by the shoulder and spun him around. "..let's take sight completely out of the equation," he said as he secured a blindfold over his face.

"Wait, I don't understand."

"It's simple. If you can't see, then you're forced to rely on your other senses in order to seek out your opponent."

"It's not like I'll ever be fighting with a blindfold on, Papi!"

"Yes, I know, but we have a tendency to rely on one sense. The blindfold is there to encourage you to rely on your ears just as much as you would your eyes. If someone were to sneak up on you, you'd want to be able to hear them."

"Okay…so…are _you _going to try and sneak up on me, or…what?"

Silence.

"Papi?" Ciro was about to lift his blindfold when he felt something whack him in the back. "Ow! What the…?" The tabby turned and lifted his blindfold, finding his father standing in front of him, twirling a stick in his paw.

"Had this been for real, you'd be dead right now."

Ciro groaned, pulling the blindfold back over his eyes. "This is going to be a long day."

0ooooooo0

The blindfold training carried on through the week. Day by day, Ciro gradually improved, avoiding attacks and even managing to knock his father off his feet a few times, much to his own delight. However, for every time he managed to evade an attack, he was also struck in the back or the head; his success never stayed consistent.

As he improved, the training started to become rather thrilling. Getting away with knocking his father off his feet certainly wasn't a norm for him.

"Okay, take a break," said Emilio after about an hour, and Ciro instantly became at ease, removing the blindfold from his face. Both cats went to lean against the fence while they rested. "All right, as much as you love kicking my feet out from under me, I want you to try and avoid doing that. I also want you to not try and wrestle with me, or make any sort of physical contact."

"I thought that was the idea?"

"Well, it works if your opponent is your size. It's easy for you to wrestle me to the ground because you and I have the same build, but try imaging your opponent being three or even four times your size. In cases like that, you want to just avoid the attack, rather than counter it."

Ciro sighed disappointedly. "I kind of liked attacking you, though."

"I'll bet you did."

After a few more minutes of resting, Emilio pushed himself off the fence, ready to pick back up with the training. "Ready for another round?"

"Sure."

Ciro secured the blindfold over his eyes and got into a ready stance. His ears rotated from front to back repeatedly, listening for even the faintest sound that would give away his father's position. He was able to detect shifting dirt and pebbles off to his left and he quickly dove to the ground in a somersault just as his father swung the stick, and then rolled back unto his feet gracefully.

"Good," said Emilio.

0ooooooo0

Emilio approached the front door of the farmer's home and knocked twice. He waited patiently for someone to answer, arms secured behind his back. When the door opened, the farmer was expecting to find himself standing face to face with someone of his own height.

"Down here," Emilio said, smirking at the man's confusion.

"Oh," James laughed, looking down at the cat. "Can I help ya?"

"Well, yes, actually. It involves Ciro's training."

"How long's he been at it?" the farmer asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"About a month now, and I'd like to get started on something new, but I'm going to need a little help setting it up, if you don't mind."

"Sure, not a problem. What do I need to do?"

Emilio nodded for the man to follow him outside into the wheat field.

0ooooooo0

After having eaten his breakfast, Ciro quickly made his way outside, finding his father waiting for him by the fence. He hadn't trained for the last two days, and as a result, he felt rested and ready to let loose all of the energy he had.

"What are we starting on today?" Ciro asked as he approached his father.

"Follow me," Emilio replied, nodding for his son to follow. Ciro followed closely behind his father as they walked along the dirt trail, wondering if what the older cat had in store for him was something that he was going to hate. He had noticed his father smirking when he had first greeted him, which to him, wasn't a good sign.

After passing a thick line of trees, the farmer's house slowly came into view, surrounded by a wide, open space, consisting of various crops. Ciro followed Emilio onto the property, walking past enclosed areas which harbored all sorts of livestock. Just off to the left of the horse barn was the wheat field. When Ciro noticed his father disappear behind the tall plants, he stopped. "Wait, what are you doing? You're going to get lost in there!"

"Just come on!" he heard his father yell back to him. "We're not going far! Just a few yards! Just walk in a straight line!"

"This is crazy," the tabby muttered as he pushed aside the grass and followed after his father. He grunted and complained as he tried to maneuver himself through the thick growth. He finally broke through into a clearing, where he found his father waiting for him, smirk still present. The younger cat glanced around, noticing that a large circle had been cut, leaving a cluster of untouched wheat in the center.

"I asked if James wouldn't mind butchering his wheat in order for this next lesson," Emilio stated with a chuckle. "He was happy to do it."

"What are we doing?"

"We're going to work on stealth now. Being cats, we have a natural prey drive; we like to stalk and hunt. It's really what defines us in the natural world, therefore I think it's best that this isn't ignored during training. This is basically the opposite of the blindfold training. This time, _you _are going to be the one trying to stalk your opponent and attack."

"So…you want me to attack _you_?"

Emilio sighed, noticing the hint of amusement in his son's tone. "Yes," he answered. Ciro grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah, I had a feeling you'd like the sound of that." Emilio turned and pointed at the uncut wheat in the center of the circle. "What you're going to do is hide out in that wheat, and I'm going to circle this path. You're going to try and tackle me to the ground."

"But you're expecting to be attacked. I'm sort of at a disadvantage."

"True, but if you're quiet enough, you can still catch me off guard. The key is being patient and knowing when the right time to attack is."

"But I'm not sure this is something I'm ever going to need. Being able to defend myself if someone attacks me is one thing, but I don't plan on ever being the attacker."

"Ciro, you just don't know what the situation might be, and if you don't use this skill against an enemy, I know you're going to need it when you're hungry. Don't forget, you're going to be on your own for food. You've had the luxury of knowing food will be ready and waiting for you at the table every day, but once you leave home, the only way food is going to get into your belly is if you kill it with your bare hands."

The younger cat looked a bit put off by this.

"Kick in the head, isn't it? Don't worry, it won't be as bad as it sounds. After all, it's in your nature. Now then, take this," said Emilio as he handed Ciro the stick he had carried with him.

"What's this for?"

"Pretend it's your weapon. When you tackle me to the ground, I want you to put it against my throat. Only then will I surrender."

Ciro smirked. "Can't we use a real sword?"

"Haha--No. Keep dreaming, kiddo. What I want you to do is hide out in that wheat. Take about five steps or so, stop, and then count to ten. After that, come and get me."

"Geez, are you training me, or are we playing Hide and Seek?"

"Okay, little wiseass, get in there," Emilio snapped as he pushed Ciro towards the wheat, stifling a laugh. Once Ciro disappeared behind the tall growth, Emilio slowly began to walk along the trail. He listened closely to his son's movements, not at all surprised by how loud he was. Obviously the first try was going to be the sloppiest.

Hearing the loud rustling of wheat and the padding of feet against the dirt, Emilio dropped to the ground just as Ciro started to tackle him, which resulted in the tabby tripping over him, somersaulting through the air, and then finally landing on his back. Emilio smirked as he straightened up and towered over his son. Ciro glared up at him.

"Shut up," he snapped.

"You rushed the attack. You didn't wait long enough, and you were making too much noise."

Ciro grumbled as he got to his feet, brushing the dirt from his fur. "I'll get you."

"Well, try to do it while I'm young," Emilio teased.

Eyes narrowed, Ciro trudged back into the circle of wheat for a second attempt. By the end of the day, he had made dozens of attempts, and his body ended up paying a hefty price in the end. Whatever energy was still left in his body quickly drained on the walk back to the cottage. Just as soon as Ciro's day of torture had ended, Emilio's night of torture had just begun as soon as Catalina saw how sore her son was.

0ooooooo0

For three days now, Ciro had attempted again and again to tackle his father, but every attempt had been a failure. He thought he was being as quiet as he possibly could, as it wasn't exactly easy to not make a sound when he was trying to fight his way through the thick growth. It didn't seem like he was getting any closer to success. Now he was on his fourth day, and his patience was wearing thin. He knew he was doing something wrong, but Emilio wanted him to try and figure it out for himself.

Ciro had already counted to ten, but he remained in the center of the wheat circle, contemplating how he would execute his next attack. Exhaling, he crouched low to the ground and slowly started forward, trying to make as little noise as possible. The wheat thinned out, and he was able to see light from the clearing. He slowly parted the growth and glanced at the trail to see if he could spot his father, but he did not see the other feline. Obviously, he was on the other side of the wheat circle. Just as Ciro prepared to turn around and go in another direction, he was suddenly struck with the possibility that perhaps that had been what he was doing wrong all along.

The tabby crouched down and patiently waited, knowing his father would be making his way along the trail any moment. The only reason he could think of for why he had not thought of this a lot sooner was the fact that he was never one to sit still and to wait for something. He liked to get up and move, but he could see now that _waiting _to strike was probably the only way he was going to get the upper hand over his father.

Ciro momentarily forgot to breathe when he saw his father making his way along the trail. Every step closer he came to the tabby, the harder it was for him to remain motionless. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to lunge forward and attack his prey, but he knew if he tried to attack him in plain sight, it would ultimately result in failure. He had to wait until his father's back was to him before he could attempt an attack.

Emilio finally walked past him, and it didn't look as though he had any indication that his son was just a few feet away, preparing his next strike. The tabby didn't give his father enough time to put a sizable amount of distance between them, and he slowly crept out of the wheat, barely making a sound. Once his entire body had emerged from his hideaway, he charged. The pads of his feet hitting the dirt were the only giveaway Emilio had, and he quickly spun around in an attempt to counter the attack, but unfortunately for him, it wasn't soon enough. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, his son on top of him with the stick pressed firmly against his throat.

"Got ya," Ciro said smugly, breathing heavily in excitement of his success.

"I guess you did," Emilio replied. "All right, let me up."

Ciro pulled himself off of his father and stood up, unable to keep himself from grinning.

"Are you going to gloat, too?" his father asked half-heartedly.

"I just might."

Emilio managed a smile of his own. "Well, if you can do it again, then I'll let you gloat until the sun goes down."

"You're on."

0ooooooo0

For the last hour, Ciro had attempted to put what his father had taught him about meditation to good use. All of his hard training had called for a bit of time to clear his mind and ease his frazzled nerves, and since they had taken a day off from training today, now was as good a time as any. It certainly wasn't easy to get his active mind evened out, but once he had managed to do it, he had become completely lost in his own relaxed state of mind. By the time he managed to pull himself out of it, he had no idea just how much time had passed. The fact that his butt was becoming numb from sitting on the stone floor of the temple gave him some indication that he had been sitting there a while.

The tabby slowly rose to his feet, momentarily glancing at the portrait of his great, great, great grandfather before then turning and exiting the stone structure. Instead of going inside, he instead turned his attention to the numerous resting places of his family, his focus primarily on the graves of his deceased siblings, but he soon looked on at the other stones which marked the numerous graves. As his eyes scanned over each grave, his brows slowly knitted in confusion. He looked over each grave a second time, and then a third, but his confusion didn't lift.

Suddenly, Ciro was left with yet another unanswered question, as well as the realization that what his aunt had told him just three months earlier was likely true. No doubt, it was frustrating that his father chose to make it difficult, but he deserved to know, and he wasn't about to let it remain a mystery forever. His father was going to tell him the truth even if he had to beat it out of him.

0ooooooo0

When Ciro stepped out of the cottage and noticed that it was overcast, his first thought was the possibility of rain, but when he noticed his father on the other side of the fence, his mind quickly became focused on more important things. He crossed his arms and slowly approached the fence, not at all enthused about training. He stopped and stood behind the white fence in silence, waiting for his father to take notice of his presence.

"Oh, hey," Emilio greeted when he finally turned around. "I've got this target set up for you." The black and white cat held up a large knife for Ciro to see. "I thought we'd work on knife throwing now. Of course I plan on standing a good fifty feet away from you while you're doing it just to be on the safe side," he added with a laugh. His face fell when Ciro continued to stare at him with a hardened gaze. "What's with you?"

Ciro unfolded his arms and roughly pushed open the gate, slamming it shut behind him. "I'm not going to continue with this training until you tell me what happened to Grandpa," he said sharply, looking his father directly in the eye with determination. The older cat sighed and turned away. "Look, you never told me how he died. I tried to get Aunt Marisa to tell me but she refused. I've been waiting around for you to tell me, but I get the feeling that's never going to happen."

Emilio turned to face his son again, replying, "That's because it's not easy. It's not easy to think about, let alone discuss."

"You wouldn't even tell me about my own brother and sister! Forgive me, but I think I would have had a right to know about my own siblings!"

Emilio pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know…I know. Your mother and I should have _both_ sat down together and told you."

Ciro crossed his arms again. "Yes, you should have. It seems like the only way I ever find out anything about my own family is that I'm the first one to bring it up. Well, fine then. If that's the only way I'll ever know about my own damn family, then fine. What. Happened. To Grandpa Nicolás?"

Emilio closed his eyes, shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. "All right…I'll tell you." Unable to bring himself to look his son in the eye, Emilio pretended to seem interested in the knife in his paw. "I was about your age when it happened," he began. "I was at home with my brother and sisters, and our parents went into town to shop for food. The town's a few miles from here, so it's never a quick trip for us by foot, and this trail here makes a pretty wide half circle around the forest, which you can see there in the distance." Emilio pointed the knife past his son at the blob of greenery just off to the left of the trail in the distance. "The town's just on the other side of those woods.

"It was already getting late by the time they were ready to come home, so instead of following the trail around the forest, my father had the idea to cut straight through it to save time…but it became obvious the trail went _around _the forest for a reason." Emilio paused for a moment, attention still on the knife in his paw. "Your grandpa and grandma stumbled into ogre territory."

Ciro's eyes widened, his mind already forming a disturbing mental picture of what he was certain his father was about to reveal to him.

"They had a run in with two _very _hostile ogres. My father was attacked first, and one of them started to go for my mother, but she managed to get out of harm's way. She started to go back to help Papi, but he urged her to get out of the woods and to get help. When she came home and told us what happened, I don't even remember grabbing the sword. I just remember bursting through the front door and flying down that trail towards those woods."

"But it was too late," Ciro finished for him. Emilio nodded slowly. "I was looking at the graves the other day. I…I didn't see Grandpa's grave."

"Well…when we got there, we didn't see him, nor the ogres. There was blood spattered on the ground, but that was all we found. At first we held out hope that maybe he had gotten away and was injured somewhere. We scoured all over the woods as much as we could, which is about three miles this way and two miles the other way," Emilio said as he used his paws to demonstrate the length of the forest. "It was hard for us to cover every inch of that forest, and our nerves were in such a fray that it got to the point where we didn't even know where the hell we were going anymore. Eventually we accepted the inevitable. We never did find his body."

"So…what happened, then? How could he just vanish?"

Emilio remained silent for a brief moment, his face taking on a look of disgust far greater than Ciro had ever seen. "Use your imagination," he stated coldly.

"Are…Are you saying they…_ate_ him?"

Emilio's jaw visibly clenched. "More than likely," he said. "I highly doubt any other animal could have gotten him that fast. And if those…those monsters had left him for dead, we would have likely found him, I'm sure."

Ciro suddenly became overwhelmed with nausea and heaved a coupling of times, feeling bile rise into his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and placed a paw to his mouth as he tried to keep himself from vomiting.

"Easy there," his father said as he patted his shoulder.

"Mi Dios," the tabby gasped, placing the back of his paw against his mouth as he heaved again.

"I know," Emilio sighed. "It devastated your grandmother to the point of poor physical and mental health; she died shortly thereafter."

A knowing look suddenly flashed across the younger cat's face. He slowly turned to his father, eyes stern. "When I was still a kid…I asked you if you ever had an experience fighting ogres…and you said you did."

Ciro paused and waited for his father to answer the question he knew he didn't need to ask, and when he saw the look in the elder cat's eyes, that was all the answer that he needed. "You killed them."

"Of course I did!" Emilio snarled. "I searched every trace of that forest until I found the beasts. I replayed every last detail my mother described to me of them in my mind until I found them, and when I did…I didn't waste any time slicing their throats wide open."

Ciro winced at his father's words. Though he did not blame him for his actions, it was still difficult to hear his father speak in such a hauntingly gruesome way.

"And I'm not sorry! My father did no wrong by them! He was of no threat to them! They were just trying to get home!"

Ciro winced again. "I know, Papi," he whispered.

Emilio ran a paw over his head as he calmed down. "You see…this is why you need to learn this stuff," Emilio said darkly as he held the knife out towards his son, turning the blade from side to side. Ciro slowly lowered his gaze to stare with uncertainty at the reflection of himself in the sharpened blade. He shook his head, taking a step back.

"I don't feel so well all of a sudden. Can we do this tomorrow?" he asked. Emilio let his arm fall to his side again.

"Yeah…sure."

Ciro turned and slowly made his way back to the cottage.

0ooooooo0

Puss paused for a moment, taking in all the horrified expressions of his companions. Shrek looked especially lost for words, and it was his expression alone that really made Puss start to regret revealing the details of his grandfather's death. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Perhaps I should have just left that little detail out."

Shrek opened his mouth in an attempt to respond, but he could not find the proper words. He stared down at his laced hands, trying to digest what he had just heard.

"I just wanted you to understand, señor. My father's discrimination does not come without reason. And please understand that I'm not trying to make excuses for him!" Puss asserted quickly, holding up his paws as though he were afraid Shrek would suddenly become offended and protest. "I know his…well…prejudices towards you aren't warranted, but for him, this isn't just a simple case of judging based on what he heard from someone else, or from a story book. It's far more serious than that. This is all based on experience…a very traumatizing and psychologically damaging experience. Something like that isn't easy to shake, which is why it might take a little time for him to come around."

Shrek nodded slowly. "Yeah…I ugh…I understand. It's fine," he replied, struggling to form words. He knew he really shouldn't be surprised by what he had heard. Disgusted, sure, but not surprised. As much as he hated those stereotypes, he knew there were some ogres that that were definitely less than docile. Some were just relatively unfriendly, and some extremely aggressive and territorial. There was no certain species that was excluded from bad seeds. Just as there were hostile humans, there were bound to be hostile ogres. There were probably a few bad cats out there as well, and as much as the thought nearly made him burst out laughing, there was probably a troublesome donkey out there, too, causing mischief.

Shrek was also no stranger to unfriendly ogres. Even though what Puss had told him probably took the prize for being the most disturbing account he had ever heard, his own father wasn't exactly one of the nicest ogres around, either, so he really couldn't doubt what his friend had told him. After all, those stereotypes had to start somewhere.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Puss repeated, shaking his head. "I should have just skipped over that part."

"No, it's fine," said Fiona after managing to pull herself out of her momentary state of shock. "We understand. Really."

Puss continued to shake his head. "I'm sure I have ruined everyone's mood, though."

"Aw, c'mon. I could yell ya more frightening stories about what I had for _breakfast_," Shrek interjected humorously in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, though it didn't seem to have much of an effect. Fiona decided it was best to just change the subject.

"Why didn't you tell us your birthday was this past February? We would have loved to celebrate."

Puss shrugged. "Eh…I'm not a big fan of birthday parties. To me, they are just a reminder that you are another year closer to death."

Donkey made a face upon hearing this. "Well, ain't _that _a happy thought. You oughta get a job makin' birthday cards, man!"

Puss chuckled at the sarcastic remark, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. Normally I love an excuse to have a big celebration, but I don't much care to celebrate my birthday. I just like to live it as though it were just another day."

"Well, don't look at it as a day of getting older, look at it as a day to celebrate being alive and well!" said Fiona cheerfully. "And next year we're having a party, even if we have to drag you kicking and screaming to it."

Puss smiled. "Very well, then, Princesa," he sighed, unable to resist the ogress' enthusiasm. It was downright contagious. "Well, enough about my birthday. Allow me to continue…"

0ooooooo0

"Ciro?"

Emilio leaned over the bed and gently shook his son's shoulder. Normally, they started back to work on the training fairly early in the morning, but today he just didn't have the heart to wake him this time, and so he let him sleep an hour longer than usual. "Ciro?" he tried again. The younger cat finally stirred, groaning as he woke. "Are you in the mood to get back to work today?"

"I don't know."

Emilio sat down on the edge of the bed. "Are you having second thoughts about all this?"

"I don't _know,_" Ciro repeated. "Can you give me a chance to wake up, please?" The tabby sat up, a look of uncertainty quite evident, even when his eyes were still heavy with sleep.

"Well…I knew when I told you that…it'd shake you up a little. I _was _going to tell you."

"Yeah, right," Ciro snapped, turning his gaze away to the wall.

"No, I was, but I was planning on waiting until your training was done."

"Why? Were you afraid I would change my mind?"

"No. I just thought it'd be…well, distracting. I didn't know if you'd be able to really focus. I thought it would make this entire experience more intimidating than it already was and thus ruin your confidence."

Ciro slowly met his father's gaze. "And if I didn't want to do this anymore? You wouldn't protest?"

Emilio sighed. "No. It's your decision."

"So…what, then? That'd be the end of it? The tradition's over?"

"Well, no. I would ask one of your brothers if they would be interested…and if not, _then _it'd be over."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Well, it's not like I _want _to see this tradition die, but there are more important things in life. It's not like all life as we know it would suddenly come to a screeching halt if one of you boys didn't keep on with this tradition. But again, it's all up to you. You should do what you want to do."

"Well…I _want _to, but hearing all that just…I don't know."

"Well, think it over and let me know."

Emilio rose to his feet and exited the room. He had only taken two steps when Ciro suddenly emerged from his bedroom. "I still want to do it," he said with clear determination. Emilio spun around, stunned by the quick decision.

"Umm…are you sure you don't want to take more than just three seconds to decide?"

Ciro shook his head, waving his paws dismissively. "No, I don't care what the risks are. Any doubts that I have, I'll just use them as leverage to work harder, but I really want to do this. I've already come this far. It'd be stupid for me to suddenly throw it all away."

Emilio smiled proudly. "Well, then, let's get back to work."

0ooooooo0

The more Ciro focused on trying to precisely line up the knife with the position of the target, the more he questioned his judgment. Emilio was currently standing a good distance away, not wanting to take any chances on possibly being a target himself.

Ciro threw his arm back, preparing to chuck the knife, but the weapon ended up slipping for his grip and flying backwards. The blade penetrated the dirt, its handle visible above the grass. Emilio actually laughed. "You see, _that's _why I'm standing way over here," he chuckled. He went over to retrieve the knife, wiping the dirt from the blade. "Show me exactly how you were holding it," he said as he handed the knife back to his son. Ciro took the knife and gripped the very tip of the blade with his thumb and index finger.

"Yeah, I thought so. Move your grip up a little bit. You _want _to hold it by the tip but not so close that you end up throwing it behind you like you just did."

"Like this?" Ciro asked as he held the knife up with a more secure grip.

"Yeah, that's better. Okay, try it again. Wait, let me back up first."

Ciro sighed at this.

"Hey, better safe than sorry! I don't want to lose an eye."

Ciro smirked as he returned his focus to the target. He slowly lifted his paw, which harbored the knife, lining up his shot the best he could. After he was certain he had a decent shot, he drew back his arm and chucked the knife with moderate force. The knife spun through the air, nailing the corner of the target.

"Good!" his father cheered. Ciro beamed.

"I just pretended you were the target."

Emilio's smile faded for a moment, but then he shrugged, replying, "Well, if it helps you nail the target, you can pretend it's me all you want. Go ahead and give it another shot."

As Ciro went to retrieve the knife from the target, he noticed something flying towards him out of the corner of his eye. He could see it was some sort of large bird, but he didn't think much of it until it had landed directly in front of him.

"Hey," the white bird greeted, smiling warmly. Ciro furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Umm…hola? Do I know you?"

The bird rolled his eyes, though his smile remained. "I've only been gone a few months. You've forgotten your best friend already?"

Ciro blinked. "_Henry? _That can't be you. You look nothing like you did last time I saw you. You're…"

"A swan," Henry finished for him, his smile bigger than ever. "I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet. I had no idea until I met a group of swans by a pond I spent a good bit of my time at while we were away. All this time, I thought something was wrong with me, but the problem was I just didn't know what I was."

"Come on, amigo, don't say it like that. There was nothing _wrong _with you, whether you were a swan or not."

"Yeah, I guess. But now this leaves me to wonder who my real family is…or where they are, for that matter. I especially want to know _how _I ended up in a duck nest."

Ciro twirled the knife casually in his paw. "That could be something to investigate," he said, smiling. The swan nodded.

"So…while I was gone, I was constantly wondering about Beni. Is he all right now?"

"Si, he's fine. He just doesn't want to go near the pond ever again, which isn't surprising. Other than that, he's fine. He had a little trouble sleeping by himself for a few days, but he got over that."

"Good." Henry glanced at the knife in the cat's paw, and then over at the target. "I take it you're in the middle of training?"

Ciro grinned. "Yes. Care to stay and watch?"

Henry waved off the offer. "No, thanks. I'm not quite ready to die yet."

The feline frowned. "You're saying you don't trust me?"

"Well, yeah," the bird replied with a grin.

"Good thinking, Henry!" Emilio shouted to him, earning a glare from his son.

"I'll let you get back to work. I'll see you later," the swan said before taking flight, heading back home to the farm. Ciro waved the bird off. Hearing his father approaching him from behind, he turned to him, resurrecting his dumbstruck expression that he had expressed just moments ago when Henry had revealed his true species to him.

"I feel like an idiot, too," he laughed. "A _swan_. I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"Well, I knew he was a swan from the moment I saw him."

Ciro's mouth fell open. "You did? Well, why didn't you tell him that?"

"Because, mijo, it's like you just told him, there was nothing _wrong _with him. He was just fine the way he was, whether he was a swan or a duck, or whatever. Besides, I knew he'd find out sooner or later. He needed to learn to be okay with himself first. I figured if I had told him, it would have just reinforced his impression that he was supposed to look a certain way."

Ciro considered his father's words, deciding that perhaps he had made a fair point.

"Okay, are you ready to get back to work?"

The tabby quickly repositioned himself in front of the target again. "Si."

0ooooooo0

Ciro paced the fence with growing impatience. His father had told him to wait outside for him, and though he had only been waiting five minutes, it felt like an hour had passed. Every time his father had passed a glance at him during breakfast, he would grin, a knowing twinkle in his eye, and because of that, he was more excited for this day of training even more so than he had been the first day it had began.

The red tabby turned sharply when he heard the front door of the cottage open. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched his father approach him. He noticed him carrying what looked to be two planks of wood, but for the moment, he didn't give it much thought.

"Well…" Emilio began, pausing for a moment to smile at his son's anxious expression. "…this is the day you've been waiting for."

"Yes! I knew it!" the younger cat exclaimed childishly, which Emilio had to laugh at.

"I guess the fact that I was grinning like an idiot all during breakfast was sort of a dead giveaway."

"Yep."

The elder cat chuckled. "Well, you've worked hard these last couple of months. Now it's time for the grand finale."

"About time."

Emilio held out one of the planks of wood to his son, who took it with confusion. "What's this for?"

"These are our pretend swords."

Ciro sighed. "I should have known we wouldn't be using real swords."

"Well, sorry, mijo, but this is for safety. It's pretty foolish to wave a real sword around when you don't know how to use it."

"Well…yes, but it just doesn't make the experience feel real to me."

"Ciro, one thing you need to understand is that it's not about the weapon, it's about the skill you put into it. If you don't have the proper skills that go into wielding a weapon, then that weapon is nothing more than a useless object, taking up space. So for safety's sake, we'll be using these until you've mastered the skill fairly well."

Ciro nodded in understanding. "All right," he conceded, though there was still a bit of disappointment in his tone. He looked down at the thin plank of wood, noticing that the end had been cut into a triangular tip to give it the appearance of a sword. A much smaller plank of wood was nailed across the other end of the fake sword to act as a handle, as well as give stability when he was gripping it.

"Ready to get started?" his father asked.

"I suppose."

Emilio stepped directly in front of his son, leaving only two feet of space between them. He tucked one arm behind his back and placed the 'sword' directly in front of his face. Ciro did the same. There was a brief moment of pause before Emilio lunged forward, letting the wooden sword fall forward. Ciro was quick to act, and moved his 'sword' at exactly the right moment, blocking his father's attack, but Emilio knew how to act faster and moved his 'sword' to Ciro's other side, hitting the edge against his hip.

"You're dead," said the elder cat, pulling back the makeshift weapon.

"Thanks for the update," Ciro growled. He got into a ready stance again, as did his father. This time he was the one to make the first move, which his father was ready for. He countered the first two strikes and then quickly turned the attack back on his son again, moving the 'sword' from one side to the other in an attempt to hit him in the sides or shoulders, but Ciro managed to block each attempted strike. Emilio then swiped his leg out and kicked Ciro's feet out from under him, sending him down on his back with a loud thud. Emilio raised the wooden sword over his head and prepared to bring it down on the younger feline, but he managed to move his own 'sword' at the right time and halt the fast approaching strike, which would have sealed his father's victory.

Once the attack was blocked, Ciro wasted no time in swiping his leg out and kicking his father's feet out from under him. As his father fell backwards, Ciro rolled onto his stomach and started to pull himself to his feet. Before he could even turn around, he felt his father grab him by the shoulder and press the tip of the wooden sword into his back firmly. The tabby's fists clenched as he acknowledged his defeat.

"Dead," his father said, his tone light with amusement.

"How did you manage to get back on your feet so fast?"

Emilio shrugged. "You _learn _to act fast, son. Precious seconds, remember? Those seconds are the difference between living and dying. You need to know how to use them. Don't worry, within a week's time, your speed will be just as good, if not better. That was good, though. Only three minutes in, and you've done about as good as what I'd expect if you had been at this for three _days._ In fact, it's almost scary. I guess you're just a natural."

Ciro smiled at this.

"Okay, let's give it another go."

0ooooooo0

Ciro had yet to get the upper hand over his father after three days, but he managed to fend his father off longer and longer with each attempt, which in Ciro's mind, meant that a victory became closer and closer with every attempt lost. Oddly enough, every time his father bested him, his confidence grew; he knew he was getting closer to a victory.

"Dead," Emilio said after a long, drawn-out battle, the tip of the makeshift sword pressed against his son's chest. Both cats were panting heavily.

"I guess I am," Ciro agreed with a grin, taking no offense to the loss.

"Your patience has gotten a lot better," Emilio complimented. "That's good."

"Well, I just keep telling myself that I'm going to get you sooner or later…and I _will._"

Emilio smirked. "Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" he said as he lunged forward, thrusting the wooden weapon towards the tabby, who moved his own 'sword' at exactly the right moment, blocking the attack. The two cats moved counterclockwise around each other, their fake swords making a loud racket as they made forceful contact with each other. Ciro tried his luck at kicking his father's feet out from under him, which was successful, but Emilio simply rolled backwards the second he hit the ground and was right back up on his feet again within seconds. "You're going to have to do better than that," the older cat said smugly as he charged again.

Ciro lunged backwards, throwing his fake weapon in front of him to halt the attack. Emilio pulled back only for a second, and then came right back at his son, trying to aim for an opening. As he plunged the fake sword forward, Ciro stepped aside just as the weapon would have struck him and thrust his own 'sword' across his father's, the tip of the wooden weapon sliding under the small plank of wood nailed across the larger plank. Before his father could pull back, Ciro pulled up on his weapon, forcing his father's 'sword' from his paw. The second his father's defense had been annulled, Ciro moved the tip of his 'sword' to Emilio's throat before the plank could even hit the ground.

"Was that better?" Ciro asked with a triumphant smirk.

"All right, you got me, but you're far from finished."

Ciro pulled back, lowering his 'sword.' "Said the loser."

"Oh? Let's see if you can do it again," Emilio challenged. Ciro grinned, taking a fighting stance..

0ooooooo0

Emilio stood with his arms folded behind his back, watching with admiration as his son moved gracefully, sword in paw. He thrust the weapon at an invisible target, taking a step forward and then a step back as though an opponent had charged him, the skinny weapon making a swishing sound as it cut through the air at a rapid speed. In just a few weeks, Ciro had learned the skill almost perfectly, much faster than he had when he had been his age.

"Okay, you can stop now."

Ciro lowered the weapon and relaxed a bit. He placed the tip of the rapier into the ground and rested both paws on top of the handle. "How was that?"

"Very good. There's not much more to learn now. You're almost ready."

Ciro beamed when he heard this. "How much longer?"

"Well, we should probably give it another week. I want us to touch back on some of the other things I've taught you to make sure you're on top of everything. I don't want you to slip on anything you've learned."

Ciro nodded, still in shock that his training was almost complete. It was likely that in less than a month, he would be leaving home to set out on the adventure of a lifetime. It was both exciting and frightening at the same time.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is the longest chapter for this story yet. It's also my longest chapter on record so far. Not counting the author's note, this chapter was 8,360 words. But…unfortunately, I have some bad news. I'm afraid I've sort of hit a dead end with this story that I can't seem to work around, and it doesn't look like I'll be continuing it after this chapter. Sorry, guys.

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April Fools! :D


	16. One Obstacle to Another

Chapter XVI:  
**One Obstacle to Another**

Training had carried on for the course of a week, just as Emilio had said it would. Ciro revisited every technique and skill that his father had taught him to better assure that he had gotten the hang of everything. Now that the final week of training had drawn to a close, the young, soon-to-be-thrill seeker was beside himself with excitement. The way he saw it, it wasn't just an opportunity for adventure, but also a final step into adulthood. It was certainly a scary thought. He knew being on his own would take a lot of getting used to, but it was a part of growing up, tradition or no tradition.

Ciro exited the cottage, making his way over to the well to gather a bucket of water. The April weather was fairly warm, but it was especially windy that day, making it feel several degrees cooler. As the feline lowered the bucket into the well, he held a paw up to his face to shield his eyes from the wind.

"Ciro!" he heard someone shout from behind. He knew it was Henry before he even turned around, and he could instantly tell from the alarm in his tone that something was wrong. He saw the bird struggling against the wind as he flew towards him, his eyes wide with panic.

"What's going on?" the cat asked as the swan landed in front of him.

"You…" Henry took a breath, exhausted from flying. "…You and your family need to get away from here, or hide, or _something._"

"W-What? Why?"

The swan turned his head sharply to glance behind him, as though looking for someone. "They're coming to arrest you!"

"Who?!"

"Farquaad's men! They're on their way here right _now!_"

Ciro blinked in shock. "What do they want with me?!"

"No, no, not just you! They're coming for your whole family! It's this fairy tale creature round up that they've started. They're seizing all fairy tale creatures within Duloc and the Duloc vicinity, and they're coming for you right now!"

"But-"

"Just hide!" Henry yelled, spreading his wings and taking to the air again. Now panicked, Ciro turned and bolted for the cottage, slamming the door shut behind him the moment he was inside.

"Papi!" he shouted. "Mama!"

"What?!" Emilio shouted back, emerging from the kitchen. At first he appeared annoyed, but he soon became concerned when he took note of the fear in his son's eyes. "What is it?" he asked with a more serious tone.

"Henry just told me that Farquaad's guards are coming to arrest us!"

Catalina appeared the second she heard this. "What?!" she yelled. She turned on her husband, who quite honestly looked sick and at a loss for words. "You lied to me! You said this wouldn't happen! YOU LIED!" she screamed, shoving Emilio roughly. Víctor and Benito had finally appeared at this point, looking both curious, as well as fearful.

"It has nothing to do with that!" Ciro interjected. Both parents looked to him with confusion, both having come to the same conclusion. "Henry told me they're seizing all fairy tale creatures."

"What?!" everyone said in unison.

"That's what he told me!"

Emilio brushed past Ciro and pulled back the curtains to peer out the small window by the door. He was met with the sight of a group of men, all heavily dressed in armor and riding atop horses, which slowed to a stop in front of the cottage. He noticed with horror that two horses were pulling a large, wooden structure behind them, which he knew immediately was used to transport prisoners. He saw the guards dismount their horses, carrying with them several sets of shackles.

Emilio stepped back from the window, running a paw over the top of his head. He looked to his family, who were now all looking at him with desperation.

"What do we do?" Catalina asked, twisting the fabric of her shawl as her fear escalated. Emilio grabbed Ciro by the shoulder and pushed him forward.

"Get in the bedroom," he said urgently. He then took Catalina by the arm and led her down the hall. "Everyone in the bedroom," he repeated. The family offered no protests and did as Emilio instructed. Once everyone was in the bedroom, Emilio kicked aside the red rug that had always resided on the floor, revealing a square-shaped door. Emilio grabbed the handle and pulled up.

"Can we even fit in there?"

"It'll be a tight fit, but it'll work. Now get in! Move it!"

The family all climbed into the floor one by one, shuffling items aside that had been stored in the space. After Ciro climbed in, Emilio followed. Once inside, he reached out and grabbed the discarded rug. Though it was difficult, he maneuvered it the best he could so that it was covering the door again. He wasn't sure if any of the men would be able to fit inside the house, but he couldn't take any chances on them discovering where they were hiding. Once he had the rug over the door, he lowered himself completely into the floor, letting the door close over him and enveloping the family in pitch blackness. Emilio reached out his paws and found his wife, pulling her close to him.

Though it was pitch black, their superior eyesight made it possible for the family to make out each other's faces in the dark, all of which expressed the same question that was most certainly on their minds: 'What's going to happen to us?'

Other than the family's heavy breathing, it was silent for the moment. They all waited, their hearts in their throats. They suddenly flinched when they heard the sound of loud banging against the front door. Catalina had to slap a paw against her mouth to silence her scream.

"No one's home, bastards," Emilio growled under his breath.

Outside, the guards were trying to assess whether the family of cats were inside the cottage or not. They all made their way around the small house, bending over to peer inside the windows, though most of them had their curtains drawn.

"How many live here?" one of the guards asked, peering through one of the windows.

"Don't know. Two or three, maybe," one of them answered, carrying the warrant for the arrest.

"There's probably more than that," another guard chimed in. "They're cats. They probably multiply like bunnies. There could be twenty in there for all we know."

"I don't see anything in there."

"Maybe they've already made a run for it. It's possible they could have already taken refuge in one of the resistance groups."

One of the men opened the door and crouched down to peer inside. He listened closely for any voices, or for the sound of movement, but he didn't hear a sound. The cottage was seemingly vacant. With a soft "Hmph," the guard straightened up and looked to the other men. "The shortest man should go inside," he said indirectly, though he was looking straight at the man standing in the middle of the three guards who stood off to his right.

The middle guard snorted and stepped forward. "I am certain Lord Farquaad could walk in without having to duck," he said, earning loud chortles from the other men, their armor rattling as their shoulders shook with laughter. It felt good to get away and finally crack a joke at their Lord's expense without the threat of it possibly being heard, thus resulting in the possibility of being hung or decapitated. It was hard to constantly be in his presence and, at the very least, not point and laugh.

The shortest guard crouched down and slowly made his way into the quaint cottage. He maneuvered his way through the house with a great deal of effort, peering into each room and opening the closet door to check for hideaways. His search turned up no results, and the cottage was dead silent. Grunting, he managed to turn himself around and get out of the cramped house that was obviously not designed for humans.

"I think they're gone. Word must have already gotten around to them. Were they last on the list?"

One of the guards unrolled a piece of parchment and looked over the list of fairy tale creatures that he and the rest of the men had been assigned to seize. Some of the names had large, black checks next to them, indicating that they had been seized, while others remained unchecked, as they had yet to be found.

"Yes," the man said, running his finger down the parchment and letting it rest over the name, _DELGADO, EMILIO, a.k.a PUSS IN BOOTS. _Though it was only Emilio's name that had been listed, they had been ordered to seize any family members who might be living with him. "So what are we to do with the prisoners we've already taken?"

The guard holding the warrant nodded for the men to return to their horses, while replying, "Lord Farquaad has a holding cell for all of them until most of the round-up is complete, and then they will be relocated, though Lord Farquaad hasn't disclosed to me their new location. As for the ones in hiding, it will most likely come down to interrogation."

The men mounted their horses, did a U-turn, and started heading back in the direction from which they came. Back inside the cottage, the family of cats still remained hidden under the floorboard, contemplating whether they should stay where they were, or check to see if they were safe.

"I don't hear anything anymore," Catalina whispered.

"Stay here," Emilio whispered back to her, and then reached up his paws to push the door up. He poked his head out from under the floor, ears pointed forward. He slowly climbed out of the floor and crept towards the door, peering out into the hallway. When he still didn't see or hear anything, he slowly made his way down the hallway towards the front door. He pulled back the curtain draped over the window just enough for him to see outside. When he saw that the men were no longer outside, he breathed a sigh of relief. He turned and made his way back to the bedroom. He lifted the door and smiled down at the family. "They're gone."

One by one, the felines each climbed out of the floor with Emilio's help. They all still appeared a bit shaken up but were otherwise relieved that the ordeal appeared to be over. They made their way into the kitchen and seated themselves at the dining table, hoping to calm their rattled nerves, though Emilio looked more angry than shaken.

"What if they come back?" Catalina asked fearfully.

"I don't know," Emilio sighed, putting his face in his paws. The family sat in silence for several minutes as they composed themselves. Just as the silence was becoming unnerving, there was a gentle knock at the door, which startled the felines. Catalina actually leapt to her feet, knocking her chair onto the floor. "Shh," Emilio hushed her. "Everyone be quiet," he said as he slowly made his way out of the kitchen. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he approached the window. With a shaky paw, he pulled back the curtain, terrified of what he'd see waiting outside. His shoulders slumped and he exhaled loudly as he opened the door. "Henry, you scared the living hell out of us," he said. The swan winced, face softening apologetically.

"Sorry," he said.

Emilio stepped aside and allowed the bird to come inside, then quickly closed the door behind him. They made their way into the kitchen and the rest of the family greeted him with as much enthusiasm as they could muster.

"Henry, what is going on?" Ciro asked immediately. The swan appeared to be just as dumbfounded as the family of cats, though he clearly had a better understanding as to what was going on.

"Well…it seems as though Lord Farquaad has finally lost it."

Emilio snorted at the statement. "Like he ever had it," he scoffed. The bird sighed.

"Apparently this is some sort of effort to…_cleanse _the land," Henry replied, just barely managing to utter the word, 'cleanse' without vomiting.

"'_Cleane?!'_" Emilio spat in disbelief. "Oh, so we are a poison to him now?"

"Seems that way. From what I've been told, this round up started yesterday. Farquaad wants all fairy tale creatures within a ten mile radius of his castle to be arrested. His plans are to relocate them somewhere else."

"_Every _fairy tale creature?" asked Ciro.

"Not all of them, just the "odd balls"," the swan answered, giving the air quotes with the tips of his wings. "You know, talking animals, pixies, witches, fairies, elves, dwarfs, any particular person with magical abilities, and so on."

"How cute. He gladly orders that we pay taxes, but then decides we aren't worthy to live anywhere near him. Son of a-"

"Calm down," Catalina interjected, putting a paw on her mate's shoulder.

"Calm down?! How can I…oh forget it, I can't even think straight," the black and white cat muttered as he put his face in his paws once again.

"How'd you find all this stuff out?" Víctor asked the swan.

"Well, when I was out flying today, I spotted the Three Bears overhead, and they appeared to be running from something, though I couldn't see anything. At first I presumed it to be hunters, but curiosity got the better of me, and so I flew down to ask them what was going on, and they told me. They told me how they had broken into their house and tried to arrest them but had managed to fight them off long enough to flee their home. I didn't know what to think at first, but as I kept flying around, I kept spotting more and more fairy tale creatures who appeared to be in a panic and trying to seek refuge somewhere. I had no idea so many fairy tale creatures were living in this general area.

"I managed to find the group that was ordered to seize you purely by accident. They had just loaded up their wagon with whoever it was they had managed to capture, and I overheard them say that you were next on their list, and so I flew here as fast as I could."

"This is unbelievable," Emilio growled. "I'm surprised that it surprises me," he added.

"Well…you haven't heard the best part," Henry snapped, eyes narrowing. "I also heard that they are offering rewards to anyone who is harboring fairy tale creatures and are willing to hand them over to authorities."

Emilio's face twisted into a grimace at hearing this. He bit his lip in an attempt to keep his vulgar language at bay, though he desperately wanted to shout every curse that came to mind.

"What if they come back for us?" Catalina asked, chewing on an unsheathed claw nervously.

The once-thought-to-be ugly duck allowed his anger and disgust to melt away for the moment. "I really don't think you should worry that much," he said. "From what I've heard about Farquaad, he seems to be the type who easily forgets about things and moves on to the next thing that satisfies his power hunger. Who knows, maybe he'll become infatuated with marrying a princess or something." The swan turned to exit the kitchen. "I should probably go."

"Thanks for the heads up, Henry," said Ciro.

"No problem," the bird replied as he left.

Catalina patted her mate's back and managed to smile at her children despite her still shaken nerves. "Why don't we eat something?" she asked. Her children seemed to lighten up a bit at the thought of having some lunch, though Emilio was still uttering curses under his breath, which he would probably continue up until they finally went to bed.

0ooooooo0

Ciro turned on his stomach, his right side, his left side, and then finally his back, growling in frustration. He figured that if by some chance he did manage to fall asleep again, the horrifying mental vision of Knights tearing down their home and dragging he and his family away in shackles would plague his mind once more, causing him to jolt awake as though frigid water had been dumped upon him.

After an hour of lying wide awake, Ciro slipped out of bed, feeling the need for some fresh air. He quietly made his way to the front door, being as quiet as he could to open it, not wanting to wake his family. He only opened the door partially as it creaked too much whenever it was opened. He managed to slip out without making much noise and quietly closed the door behind him.

The feline inhaled deeply, eager to take in the fresh, night air, though the moment he took in the air's scent, his ears went erect, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck and all the way down his back. The air was thick with a very uninviting smell: smoke. He sniffed the air again, nearly choking as he did. Looking up into the night sky, he could see the smoke rising over the trees. Even though he couldn't actually see the fire, he really didn't need to see it to know where it was coming from. He _knew _what was beyond that thick line of trees, but he still had to see it for himself.

Ciro raced down the dirt trail, silently praying that he would be wrong, but once he made it past the line of trees and looked out at the vast expansion that was the farmer's property, his fears were confirmed: the farmer's house was on fire.

"Sweet mother of Charles Perrault!" Ciro gasped as he turned to flee back to the cottage, the dirt and pebbles beneath his feet shifting so suddenly that he stumbled. He sprinted back to the cottage, shoving the door open so roughly that it slammed against the wall, which easily woke Víctor and Benito. Ciro threw open the door to his parents' bedroom. "Papi! Papi, get up!" he screamed.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Emilio muttered against his pillow. "Don't tell me they're coming after us again."

"The farmer's house is on fire!"

Both Emilio and Catalina shot up. "On _fire_?!" Emilio shouted. "Did they get out?!"

"I couldn't tell! As soon as I saw it, I came back to get you!"

Emilio quickly got out of bed and ran out of the room, Ciro following closely behind him. "Wait, Emilio!" Catalina shouted after him as she climbed out of bed.

"What's going on?!" Benito shouted as he and Víctor watched their brother and father run past them out the front door.

"The farmer's house is on fire!" Ciro called back to them.

Once Emilio took in the sight of the house being engulfed in flames, he briefly slowed down, shock overpowering his willpower to keep running.

"Vámonos, Papi!" Ciro shouted to the older cat as he ran past him towards the burning house. Emilio managed to overcome his brief moment of shock and continue on towards the house. As they made it onto the property, they could see that a few people who lived along the trail had been drawn to the sight. They searched to see if the farmer and his wife were among the spectators, but they saw no sign of them. Looking up, Ciro saw Henry flying towards them. "Where are they?!" he shouted before the bird could even touch down.

"They never made it out!" he replied, turning his head away to cough. His once snow-white feathers were now blackened from the thickness of the smoke. "I couldn't see inside, the smoke's too thick!"

"Why is everyone just standing around?!" Emilio shouted angrily as he glanced at the people who had come to view the grim scene. Snarling, the cat turned and made a mad dash for the house.

"Papi, wait!" Ciro shouted after him. He watched as his father leapt up and turned the knob on the door. Luckily, there was no debris blocking the doorway, and so he was able to make it inside without any problems.

"James!" he shouted over the roar of the flames. "Emily!" Emilio quickly raced up the stairs, certain that they were on the upper level and possibly trapped somewhere.

Meanwhile, Ciro was still contemplating going after his father. Looking at how much the fire had spread near the top of the house, it was definite that the house would collapse at any moment.

"I'm going after him!" he shouted as he started for the front door. Just as he approached the doorway, several large pieces of burning debris fell in his path, causing him to stumble backwards. Growing, he turned away from the door and scoped out one of the windows. He took a few steps back and then bolted forward, throwing himself through the window and into the house. He could feel shards of glass pierce his skin, though it was not of any concern to him at the moment. Once he was back on his feet, he started to search the house.

0ooooooo0

Catalina arrived on the scene just moments after Ciro entered the burning house, her sons right behind her. When she saw no sign of her son or mate, she quickly looked to Henry, who was looking at her with dread. "Where are they?!"

"They went inside," Henry replied, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames. Catalina's heart plummeted into her stomach as she slowly shifted her gaze to the burning house.

"Emilio!" she screamed as she started for the house. "Ciro!" Benito and Víctor both lunged forward and grabbed their mother before she could charge into the blazing house. They struggled to pull her back, trying to assure her that their brother and father could handle themselves, though they were just as terrified of the possible outcome as she was. "NO!" the female cried as her legs gave out from under her. Her sons kept a firm hold on her arms and let her down gently, still trying to reassure her. "No," she repeated more quietly, staring at the inferno helplessly.

0ooooooo0

Emilio checked each room on the top level of the home in a haste, choking on the thick smoke that surrounded him. When he checked the third room, he was relieved to see James and Emily were there and appeared to be unharmed, though it seemed that Emily was petrified to the point of immobilization.

"What are you doing?!" Emilio managed to yell through the surrounding fire. "If you stay here, you'll die! Let's go!"

"I can't get her to move!" James shouted back to the cat, pointing at his wife. "She's too scared!"

"For God's sake, throw her over your back and let's go!"

"You think I didn't try that?! How do you think I got this bloody nose?!" the man shouted as he jerked a thumb at the thin river of blood trailing from his nose. "She won't let me touch her! She's just too afraid!"

Emilio turned his attention to the woman, who was huddled on the floor, back pressed firmly against the wall. Growling, he marched over to her, made a fist and struck her in the jaw. "IF YOU DON'T MOVE YOUR ASS, THEN YOU'RE GOING TO DIE IN HERE! HOW DOES THAT SOUND?!" he screamed as loud as he could, which seemed to get a reaction from the woman.

"Stop it!" the farmer shouted angrily.

"Look, we don't have time to be reasonable here!" Emilio snapped back. "This whole damn house is going to go! We have to move! NOW!"

"Papi!"

Emilio whirled around. "Ciro, what are you doing here?! Get out of here!"

"You can ground me later! I'm not going anywhere!" the younger cat asserted, jumping to the side when a piece of debris fell to the floor. "The roof is going to collapse!"

Emilio grabbed a sheet off the bed and started tearing it into strips. "Here!" he shouted as he handed one to James. "Hold these up to your mouth to keep from breathing in the smoke!" He handed the man another to give to Emily. "Guide her down the stairs and keep your hand over her eyes so she doesn't see the flames!"

James coaxed his wife to stand up and secured an arm around her, handing her the piece of fabric to cover her mouth. He then placed a hand over her eyes, assuring her that he'd protect her, and then started for the door. Ciro went ahead of them to guide them out, while Emilio followed from behind them.

"Wait, we need to get our wedding picture!" Emily shouted as she tried to turn to go back, but James urged her forward.

"Forget it, we need to get out!"

Ciro made his way down the stairs, desperate to breathe the fresh air that awaited him outside. "The door's blocked! We have to exit through the window!"

James undid the lock on the now shattered window and opened it all the way, not wanting to get cut on the jagged pieces of remaining glass that outlined the frame. He helped Emily out first, and then he climbed out after her. Once they were out of the house, they ran as fast as they could to get out of range of it incase it collapsed, which they were certain it would.

Ciro prepared to exit the house but noticed that his father was not behind him. Just as he was about to call out to him, he heard a loud, agonizing scream that nearly made the color drain from his fur. Suddenly, the fire was no longer there, and the threat of choking to death on the thick smoke was of no concern to him. All that he was focused on at that point was getting to his father. "Papi!" he yelled as he dashed up the stairs. As he returned into the room he had previously occupied, he saw that a large piece of debris had fallen from the ceiling, and just beyond that, he noticed that his father was on the ground, trying desperately to put out the flames that had engulfed his right arm.

Without a second thought, Ciro leapt over the burning debris and dropped to the floor next to his father, batting the flames with his paws to help extinguish them. Once the flames had been put out, Ciro next sought out the discarded bed sheet that Emilio had ripped apart just moments ago.

"Ciro, get out of here," his father said weakly. Ciro scoffed at his father's words, wrapping his burned arm in the bed sheets.

"I'll drag your ass out of here by the ears if I have to!" he shouted to him, meeting his father's gaze with clear determination. "Now get up!" Ciro slipped a paw under his father's uninjured arm, and slinked his arm around his back to help him stand. "Can you walk?!"

"Yeah, I'm good," the injured cat hissed. "Hang on," he said as he bent down to pick something up, clutching it close to his chest, though Ciro didn't see, nor care what it was. All he cared about was getting them both out of the house before it fell on top of them and killed them.

"Let's move it!"

Outside, Catalina and her sons continued to watch the inferno with horrified gazes, their hope beginning to dwindle. The seconds turned to minutes, and in those seconds, the fire continued to spread.

"The house is going to go any minute," Henry whispered, not meaning for the family of cats to hear, though they did.

"I can't take it! I'm going!" Victor yelled as he raced forward.

"Víctor, don't!" Catalina cried out to him, reaching out to try and grasp his arm as he charged but only ended up grasping hot air.

"They may need help!" her son shouted back to her. He leapt through the open window, landing gracefully on all fours on the inside. He winced against the intense heat, choking on the smoke. Looking up, he smiled when he saw his brother and father making their way hastily down the stairs, though he noticed the bed sheet wrapped around his father's arm and knew instantly that he had been burned. He reached out to him as he approached him, helping Ciro to lift him out of the window. Both brothers jumped as they heard debris begin to rain down behind them. "Come on!" Víctor shouted, shoving Ciro in the shoulder to urge him forward.

As soon as they climbed out of the window, they scrambled to get away from the house. They spotted Benito and their mother several yards away, both looking beyond relieved to see that they had made it out, though it didn't take long for the concern to set in when they noticed Emilio's arm. Catalina stumbled to her feet and rushed forward to greet them, her vision blurred with tears. "Don't ever do that again!" she cried as she embraced her mate, being careful to avoid his arm, unsure of how badly the injury was. She then reached past Emilio and pulled Ciro into a crushing hug, unable to keep herself from chastising him for fleeing into the burning house. She pulled back to look him over for injuries, noticing the few cuts he had, but it didn't look like he had attained anything severe.

Everyone turned when they heard the loud cracking and groaning of faltering wood. They stared in awe as the house collapsed. They heard the anguished cry of Emily as she watched her beloved home crumble and fall to the ground in a heap of debris. James pulled her against his chest, rubbing her back soothingly and staring at the burning pile that was once their home with remorse.

Emilio lowered himself to the ground, exhausted and weakened. "Ciro…"

Ciro whipped his head around to face his father, quickly kneeling down to where he was eye level with him. "Yeah, Papi?"

"Give this to them," Emilio said as he held out the object he had been clutching tightly to his chest. Taking the rectangular object, Ciro flipped it over, seeing that it was the couple's wedding picture. "They need something good out of all this mess. And tell Emily that I'm sorry for hitting her."

"Wait, you _hit_ her?"

"Well, I had to do something to get her to move."

Ciro shook his head, making his way over to the couple and smiling the best he could when he greeted them. "My father wanted me to give you this," he said as he extended the framed picture to the grief-stricken couple. Emily took it with a shaky hand, a hint of joy managing to break through the thick anguish that contorted her facial features. She clutched the picture against her chest, bottom lip quivering. "Also…he wanted to say he was sorry for decking you," the feline added with a light chuckle.

"Thank you," the woman whispered, unable to really articulate words beyond the simple statement of gratitude.

"Do you…have anywhere to go?"

"We have a shack over yonder," James replied, pointing out into the dark. "It's mostly for storage, but we can make a house out of it in the mean time."

Ciro nodded. "If you need anything, let us know."

James managed a smile. "Thanks…to you and your dad both."

Ciro quickly turned and rushed back to his father's aid, who he saw was in the process of standing up, trying to look as though his situation was not dire.

"Papi-"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Emilio snapped as he started making his way off of the property. "Are they going to be all right?"

The rest of the family tried to catch up to the retreating cat.

"They're fine, but you're the one we need to worry about right now," Ciro asserted firmly, trying to reach out to his father to inspect his arm, but Emilio swatted him away.

"It's fine!"

Catalina rushed forward, planting herself directly in her mate's path. "Show me," she snarled, worry in her tone. "I want to see."

Emilio averted his gaze, looking towards the ground as he reluctantly reached over to pull back the sheet.

"Oh, God," Catalina gasped in horror when she saw that practically Emilio's entire arm had been burned.

"Papi, you need a doctor!" Víctor shouted, moving around to his father's front to inspect his injury more closely. Benito simply stood in shock, wondering how his father could not be screaming in pain at that very moment. His arm had been burned to the point of appearing bright red, and there were even some places that were actually blackened, a sight that made the entire family sick at their stomach.

"It'll take us forever to get into town," Emilio protested.

"I can fly there," Henry interjected, approaching the family. "Flying always gets you places faster. I can find a doctor and have him come to you."

Catalina nodded. "That works."

The swan quickly spread his wings and took off into the night sky.

"Come on, we need to get cold water on that burn," Catalina said urgently, nodding for everyone to start moving again. Once they were back at the cottage, Emilio had a seat on the front step while Ciro went to the well to retrieve a bucket of water.

"How bad does it hurt?" Benito asked, still wondering why his father didn't seem to be in any pain.

"That's the scary thing, mijo. It really doesn't hurt, not like you'd expect it to."

"How can that not hurt?!" Víctor replied in astonishment, staring at the charred areas of his father's arm.

"I really don't know, but I know that can't be a good sign."

Catalina exited the cottage with a rag in one paw. Ciro placed the bucket of water by his father's feet and Catalina quickly soaked the rag. "All right, hold your arm out."

Emilio did as his wife instructed, and Catalina held the rag over his arm and twisted it, squeezing the cold water onto his arm, drenching most of the burn. She dunked the rag in the bucket again and repeated the process. "Are you all right?" she asked, looking up to meet her mate's gaze. "Do you feel light-headed at all? Do you feel like you may pass out?"

"No, I think I'm all right. M-My heart's beating kind of fast though."

Catalina returned her attention to her husband's arm, barely able to look at the sight without becoming nauseated. If he wasn't already injured, she most likely would have beat the life out of him for going into that house.

After twenty minutes or so, the family spotted Henry make his return, the poor swan appearing out of breath. "The doctor's coming," he gasped as he landed.

"Gracias, Henry," said Ciro.

Moments later, a horse trotted into view, pulling behind it a moderate size carriage. Steering the carriage was a white-haired gentleman. He took a quick glance at the family and then hopped down from the carriage. He opened the door of the carriage and reached in to grab his medial supply kit. Even from the end of the path that led up to the front door, he could see the injury clearly. "Good Heavens," he said as he walked up the path. "I didn't know it was _that _bad."

"Come on," Catalina urged her children, nodding for them to go inside. "Let's give him some room to work. Henry, come in if you'd like."

The swan followed the family of cats inside the cottage, while the doctor set his supplies on the ground and knelt down to get a better look at the injury. He grimaced at the sight.

"It doesn't really hurt," Emilio said, his voice a bit shaky. "That's not a good sign, is it?"

The man sighed. "Not really. If you're feeling little to no pain, then that's a sign that the nerves are either damaged or destroyed, which leads me to believe that…well, you probably won't have full use of this arm ever again."

Emilio became rigid. "I..I can't use it?"

"Well, I mean you'll probably be able to move it some, but you can't do much with it."

"But I…I _work _with this arm. I _need _to work."

The man regarded the cat with sympathy. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to tell you. But hey, be glad you got out of there with your life."

Emilio wanted to protest against that statement, feeling as though it was a slap in the face. It almost sounded as though the man was telling him to be grateful for a useless arm, rather than be grateful to be alive, but he couldn't find his voice. It felt as though the walls of his throat had clamped shut.

"Look, um…" the doctor began as he flipped open the lid to his supply kit. "There really isn't much I can do here. I didn't know the burn was this severe. Ointments and lotions really won't help for a burn this bad. The most I can do is try to remove the dead skin and bandage it, but that's about it."

0ooooooo0

Ciro winced as his mother dabbed the wounds he had acquired when he had broken through the window. She managed to remove several pieces of glass from his skin and was now in the process of cleaning and bandaging the wounds. "I could just smack you," she quipped. Ciro smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I wasn't going to just stand around."

"I know, I know, you're just reckless like your father," Catalina replied dryly. She playfully tugged her son's ear and said, "Okay, you're done." She stood up from the table and left the kitchen. Ciro exhaled tiredly, rubbing his eyes. He drummed the kitchen table with his fingers, slumping against the back of his chair. His eyes shifted to his friend, who he saw pacing the floor slowly.

"I really don't think I can thank you enough," Ciro said, breaking a ten minute silence. He grunted as he forced himself to sit up straight again. "I mean…you've always been there at the worst moments, and had you not, I can only imagine those times would have turned out for the worse."

"It's no big deal."

"Yes, it is, amigo. I don't think I could ask for a better friend." Ciro fidgeted slightly in his seat, not quite used to being too sentimental. Henry smiled, noticing his discomfort.

"Well…that's what friends do."

Ciro caught his mother walk past the kitchen out of the corner of his eye, making her way for the front door. He quickly stood up and followed after her. His father had entered the house, wearing loosely wrapped bandages and appearing very exhausted. His mate questioned his condition and he asserted that he was fine. He walked on past his family, avoiding their concerned gazes and heading straight for the bedroom, desperate for a moment of solitude. Catalina sighed, turning her attention to the man who had aided her mate. She stepped outside, folding her arms across her chest as she watched him close up his supplies.

"What do we owe you?" she asked tiredly.

"Don't worry about that tonight. I'll come back in a few days to see how he's healed up. The bill can hold on till then." The man straightened up and prepared to head back to his carriage. "Oh, and make sure he stays hydrated. As serious as that burn is, he can become dehydrated very quickly, so give him fluids about like you would if he were sick, and just keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn't succumb to shock. He seems fine right now, but it'd be best if someone stayed up with him tonight. Oh, wait…." The man placed his case back down on the ground and re-opened it, fishing around for the bandages. "Might as well take these," he said as he handed Catalina the large wad. "I've got more back at my office. You'll need to change the bandages every day."

Catalina nodded as she took the bandages, eyes falling to the ground. "Thank you."

"Good evening," the doctor said as he turned to leave. Catalina stepped back inside.

"What a day this has been," she said, mostly to herself.

"Umm, I guess I better leave," said Henry, edging his way out of the kitchen. "I'll see you later."

"Buenas noches, Henry," Catalina said, barely an ounce of enthusiasm in her voice. The stress she had endured over the last hour had left her so exhausted that she could probably fall asleep standing up if given the chance. "You kids should go to bed," she said softly. The three brothers glanced at each other.

"What about Papi?" asked Benito.

"He'll be fine. He's stubborn."

"He's hurt pretty bad, though," Víctor protested. "What if he's not out of the woods yet?"

"Don't worry, I'll stay up with him. Now all of you get your butts into bed."

Catalina walked on past her sons, so tired that she almost swayed as she walked. She came into the bedroom and spotted Emilio sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes on the floor. Catalina stepped into the room and silently shut the door. "Emilio-"

"I don't want to talk about this," the male snapped. He glanced at his bandaged arm before maneuvering himself to where he was lying on his back, glaring up at the ceiling.

"Tough, because I do. Since you're already hurt, you've taken the fun out of me physically beating the stupid out of you, so I'll just use my words, which is going to be hard because I'm so tired I can't see straight."

Emilio fought to hold back a smirk.

"What were you thinking about? Oh God, what are you _ever _thinking about? Where did your sense go, Emilio?!"

"I guess I lost it on our honeymoon along with my virginity," the male snapped back, his last ounce of patience dissolving away.

"Oh, real cute. God, Emilio, you could have been killed! And what about Ciro?! What if he had gotten seriously hurt? God, don't you ever think?"

"Right, Cat, the ethical thing to do would have been to just stand there and do nothing like a spineless coward. They could have been trapped in there, and no one else was lifting a finger to help! Did you want me to just leave them in there?!"

Catalina's vision became blurred, and she quickly turned away, blinking away the tears. "I don't know, all right? I…I don't know."

Both Emilio and Catalina jumped slightly when they heard a knock at the door.

"Mom…" Ciro poked his head into the bedroom, sending a concerned glance between his parents.

"Ciro, go to bed. Everything's fine."

The younger cat stepped into the room. "Why don't you take my room? I can stay in here with Papá."

"I'm fine, sweetie. I'm staying in here with your father."

"Cat, you're exhausted," Emilio interjected. "Why don't you just take Ciro's room and get some sleep? I promise, I'll try not to perish in the night."

"Real funny," the female growled.

"Just do it."

Catalina let her arms fall to her sides, sighing in defeat. She was just too tired to argue. "Fine." She kissed Ciro goodnight and left he and his father alone. The younger male walked around to the opposite side of the bed and took the space next to his father.

"Are you okay?"

"Just dandy," Emilio snapped. "But…I suppose the doctor was right. I _should _be glad I'm not dead." Emilio let his head sink back into the pillow. "This has certainly been an eventful day. Of course, it _is _Monday, and Mondays are always bad." The elder cat glanced at Ciro out of the corner of his eye. "You should have stayed behind."

"Yeah, and if I had done that, then you probably _would _be dead right now."

A smile finally cracked Emilio's face. "Well, I guess I can just look at this as proof that you're built to handle yourself. If you can run into a blazing building without so much as a thought, I think you'll do just fine when you venture out into the world. You're built tough."

"Well, I get that from you."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for 2,000+ hits, guys! And thanks for all the reviews! Only 14 to go until I hit 100 :D

I read some new information on the Puss in Boots spin-off movie recently. I became rather frustrated when I found out that Puss grew up in an orphanage. I knew my story would eventually be shot full of holes when they made the movie, but I didn't think it'd be this soon. So I sort of pouted for about five minutes, and then I tried to look at it from a different perspective. The way I see it, the more differences between my story and the actual movie, the more people will have to compare and contrast. Hopefully the spin-off will bring more people to this story, and people can decide which storyline they like better.

In other news, I finally got Victor's portrait up:

http: // dracori. deviantart. com /art / BtN-Victor-160856041

I also have a new picture up that I think most people will enjoy more than anything. I finally got around to creating an image of Puss as a kitten to give everyone an idea of what he looked like:

http: // dracori. deviantart. com /art/ Little-Puss-162192759

**Please remember to remove the spaces.**


	17. Responsibility

Chapter XVII:  
**Responsibility**

Catalina gradually removed the bandages from her mate's arm, grimacing when she was reintroduced to the extensive damage that had not changed much since the previous night. "Let's wait a few minutes before we re-bandage it. It's good to expose it to the air. You don't want it to stay moist."

Emilio glanced at the burn, grimaced, and then turned his gaze to the floor again. "Cat…" he began softly, "..the doctor said I probably won't have full use of this arm again."

The female stared at her husband briefly in silence, a lump forming in her throat. "Well…then…"

"It means I can't work," the male stated flatly, his gaze hardening. Catalina took a moment to digest those words, twiddling her thumbs nervously.

"Well…we'll figure a way around it. Maybe there's something else you can do once you've healed."

"Like what?"

"I…I don't know. We can figure that out later."

"Later?" Emilio scoffed. "How much later, Cat? We have to eat every day. We can't just hold off on buying food for the next few weeks. We've still got some of that money I brought home stored away for emergencies. That can last us for a short while, but what then? What will we do after it's gone? I really don't want to resort to hunting squirrels every damn day."

"Maybe by then you'll have found something else. I'm sure there's still _something _you can do around here that your injury isn't going to prohibit." Catalina slinked an arm around her mate's back. "Everything will be fine. We'll figure it out." The red cat started to unravel the wad of bandages, instructing Emilio to hold his arm out so that she could re-bandage it.

"I've just always been afraid of not being able to provide for this family, and it seems like at every turn I make, there's always some other roadblock I have to work around. There's always one challenge after another."

"And you've always succeeded."

Emilio smiled softly. "Well, I guess I should be glad we don't have a new litter of kittens to take care of. I mean, Ciro will be leaving soon, and it won't be long before Víctor and Benito will be fully grown and ready to start pulling their own weight."

Catalina nodded as she secured the bandages, making sure they weren't wrapped too tightly. "Everything will work out."

"I hope so."

0ooooooo0

Ciro sighed quietly, leaning against the wall as he listened to the words spoken within his parents' bedroom. He knew his father was not one who took his responsibility as a provider lightly, and now seeing that he was permanently crippled, it was easy to see he felt like a failure, even though he had no reason to feel that way.

A thought suddenly occurred to the tabby and he quietly slipped away and down the hall as silently as he could, making his way into his brothers' bedroom. Their room became illuminated in a soft, orange glow as Ciro carried the oil lamp into the room and set it down on the closest flat surface he could find. He closed the bedroom door and quickly went to wake his brothers. "Víctor?" he whispered as he reached down to the bottom bunk and shook his brother awake. His sibling groaned and turned over on his other side. Rolling his eyes, Ciro tried to rouse him again.

"What?" Víctor mumbled against his pillow.

"Wake up, I need to talk to you." Ciro reached up to the top bunk and tapped Benito's shoulder. "Beni? Com on, Ben, wake up."

"What is it? What's going on?" Benito asked sleepily, slowly sitting up.

"We've got a problem."

The two younger siblings managed to focus their attention on their brother, a bit disgruntled from being roused from their slumber, but they seemed to sense that it was important.

"Papi doesn't think he can work anymore. His injury's too severe, but it's not like we're in a position where we can't help. We're plenty old enough."

"Well, yeah, but…where exactly are we supposed to get the work?" asked Benito.

"Heck, it's not a matter of 'where', it's a matter of 'how'. You know how people are about giving animals a paying job," added Víctor with discontent.

"True, mi hermano, but hopefully, we won't have to worry about that. I've already got an idea."

0ooooooo0

The three brothers had waited until after their parents had turned in for the night before sneaking out, hoping their parents wouldn't wake up and discover them missing. The nighttime fireflies seemed intrigued by the lanterns they carried with them, flying silently alongside them. Ciro paid no attention to the glowing insects, but Víctor and Benito couldn't ignore their instinct to swat at the bugs as they flew in front of their line of vision.

As the cats drew closer to their destination, Benito caught up with Ciro to where he was walking side by side with him. "I don't know, maybe we shouldn't bother. I mean…he's not really in a position to give us work, you know."

"Well, even if they can't, then we can still offer our assistance to them."

Ciro approached the rickety looking shack and knocked three times, hating to have to disturb the couple so late at night. He heard a bit of fumbling around and then the door creaked open. James stared out into the horizon briefly but quickly thought to look down when he didn't see anyone at first.

"Sorry, we know it's late."

"No, it's fine. I wasn't even asleep anyway."

"Who is it, Jimmy?" came Emily's voice as she poked her head around her husband. She smiled faintly when she saw Ciro and his brothers. "Oh, hello there, sweeties."

"How are you holding up?" Ciro asked both of them.

"Fine, I suppose. Emily and I tried to see if there was anything salvageable in that big pile of mess."

"_Was_ there?" asked Benito.

"Nah. We didn't find crap," the man replied. "But you know, they're just things, and it's just a house. A house can always be rebuilt."

"_Are _you looking to rebuild?"

"Yeah. Today I managed to find some people in town who knew how to do the job. I'd do it myself, but I just don't have it in me anymore. I built the house we lived in twenty years ago."

Ciro's gaze shifted towards the ground. "Well, that's sort of the reason why we're here. You see, my father's injury was so severe that he's not going to be able to work anymore."

James looked surprised. "I didn't know he was hurt that bad."

"It's just put him in a difficult position since he can't work now, and now he thinks that because his arm is useless, _he's _useless. I hate to ask this, but we were wondering if you'd maybe like to hire us to help you rebuild? If you're able to, that is. You really don't have to pay us that much. The smallest amount is fine, and even if you can't, we'd still like to help out in any way we can. The only reason we came to you first is because you've never been prejudiced towards my family when they needed work. I know you're in a difficult position right now as well, and if I thought there was any chance we could get the work anywhere else, we wouldn't ask this of you. I just don't want to see my father stress over this anymore."

A smile tugged at the corner of the man's lips. "Well, I never cared _who _did the job, as long as they could do it, and if you're even half the workers your dad was, then you're hired."

The trio of cats smiled brightly. "Gracias," said Ciro, feeling a bit of relief that the hole they had slipped into wasn't going to get any bigger.

"Well, I always told your dad I'd help him out when he needed it, and I'm a man of my word. We're going to start clearing out the debris tomorrow before we start building, so you can head over here about noon."

"We'll be here."

0ooooooo0

Emilio opened the wardrobe with his left paw, his gaze becoming longing as his jade eyes fell upon the sword, the wide cup of its hilt supporting its weight between the two pegs that held it up, and then he glanced at the rest of the traditional attire. The hat hung in the middle, with the cape on the right side and the sword on the left, the belt hanging just below them, and then finally the boots resting on the floor. Emilio sighed, shooting a glare at his bandaged arm before reaching in to retrieve the rapier. His eyes raked over the sleek, thin blade with sadness, knowing he'd never use it again. "I guess it doesn't matter if I have a bum arm or not. You're going to have a new master soon, anyway," he said to the sword.

Suddenly, the cat took a fighting stance, thrusting the sword forward with his left paw. He turned swiftly and thrust the sword again, taking a step back and then forward again as though he were fighting an opponent. He shook his head, lowering the weapon. It just felt too odd holding the sword in his left paw. His entire form felt off to him because of it. Sighing, he placed the sword back in the wardrobe and slammed the door with a snarl.

"Are you all right?"

Emilio looked towards the door, finding his eldest son eying him with concern.

"Fine. Just longing for the glory days, is all."

Ciro tried to smile, but it failed miserably. "Listen, Víctor, Beni and I are going to help James clean up the mess from the fire. We'll be gone for a few hours."

Emilio nodded. "That's a good idea."

Ciro muttered a quick goodbye and called for his brothers to follow him. He had yet to tell his father that they were actually getting paid for the work they were doing. Obviously, he was going to find out, but he was worried it might make his father feel awkward. He already felt ashamed that he could no longer do the work, and if someone else worked in his place, Ciro wondered if perhaps it would only make him feel more useless than he already did, but in the end, he hoped it brought him relief rather than grief.

As Ciro and his brothers made their way onto the farmer's property, they could see that both he and his wife had already set to work on clearing out the debris that was once their home. "Is there anyone else coming to help clean up?" Ciro asked after having greeted the couple.

"No, the men I hired are just helping me rebuild. This is a job we could have handled, and since you're here, it'll definitely go by quicker. Just move all this mess over to that pile over there," the man replied as he pointed at the small pile of debris several yards away. "We'll figure out what to do with it later, but for right now, we just need to get it off this lot so we can build."

"Are you building the same house?"

"Nah. No sense in building a two-level home for just two people. It'll be a one-level cottage. I may need to recruit one of you to feed the animals here. I can probably do it myself, but for the next couple of weeks, I'm going to be pretty scatter-brained from trying to get this house built."

"I can do it," Benito offered.

"Okay, then, that'll be your job." The man nodded towards the much larger pile of debris in front of him. "Why don't we get to it?"

The three felines spread out and grabbed whatever their small statures could handle. Piece by piece, they carried the remains of the house to the separate pile that James had pointed out to them. Occasionally, the brothers would all carry a large piece of charred wood together whenever they were too big for one cat to handle. After just an hour or so, the constant walking back and forth had tired them out. Tiring, or not, however, it certainly wasn't a difficult job.

As the late afternoon rolled around, they had managed to put a decent dent in the cleanup. Obviously, they'd be at it again tomorrow. James had informed the cats that he would pay them after the first day of the rebuilding process, which would include pay for cleaning up the debris. Ciro had told him not to worry about paying them for just cleaning up, but James insisted that he did, telling him that just cleaning was a job in itself.

By the time Ciro and his brothers had made it home, they were more than ready to eat, and were definitely going to bed early that night

0ooooooo0

By the end of the third day of work, the foundation for the house was already halfway completed. The workers had since been paid and left for the evening, and James finally called the felines back to the shack to pay them.

"I'm glad I decided to keep some of my money out here," he said as he removed a sheet that had been used to cover a large, tin container. "Otherwise, I'd be in a world of trouble. Always good to have money stashed in varies locations. I'd like to pay you more than the men I hired, but if I don't pay them a certain amount, they'll walk from the job, and I need as many people as I can get to get this job done fast."

Ciro nodded in understanding. James placed several shillings into a small sack and handed it off to Ciro. "Just as a heads up, if I start running low on money, I may have to stop paying you, only to ensure that I don't lose the workers I've hired. I don't want to, but I may have to."

"That's fine. You don't have to worry about us walking away from the job," Ciro assured.

"I appreciate it. Maybe after all this is done and we get the market running again, I can get you some steady paying work."

"That would be great, thank you." Ciro nodded for his brothers to follow him out. "We'll see you tomorrow."

0ooooooo0

Once the trio of brothers returned home, their mother had informed them that the doctor had visited to check on Emilio's condition. He said that he was healing slowly but nicely, and at the moment, Emilio was busy griping about how he thought it was ridiculous to pay someone to tell him he was healing, to which Catalina just shrugged off as typical behavior for her mate. Complaining about absurdities was like a sport to him.

Ciro caught a hitch in his father's complaining and quickly sat down at the table to inform both he and his mother of the money they had earned. "Papi, we need to talk to you about something," he began.

"It's nothing bad, is it?" Emilio asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No." Ciro pulled his paws out from under the table, placing the small sack of money in front of him for his parents to see. "James has been paying us for the work we've been doing."

Emilio looked rather stunned at hearing this. "Can he even afford to do that?"

"He kept a good bit of money hidden out in his shack," answered Víctor.

"That was a good idea," said Catalina.

"We asked if he'd be willing to pay the smallest amount to help him rebuild his house. We would have helped even if he couldn't afford to pay us, but I just thought it couldn't hurt to ask since…well…because of Papi's injury, we're kind of in a difficult position as well," Ciro said gently, not wishing to offend his father.

"Ciro, you all didn't need to do this," said Catalina. "We have emergency money."

"Yes, but it wouldn't have lasted forever, and I didn't want to stand by and do nothing."

Emilio reached across the table and pulled the sack towards him, opening the mouth and letting the coins spill onto the table. There were just a few, but a few was enough to eat for a few days. Emilio met his son's gaze, his voice still nonexistent at the moment. As hard as he tried, he couldn't find the right words, but Ciro wasn't depending on a response. He just needed him to know that he and his brothers would step up and take on the responsibility of providing for their family now that their father was unable.

The discussion was suddenly forgotten when Catalina stumbled forward, paws gripping the edge of the table for stability. Both Ciro and Emilio instantly shot up from their seats.

"Cat, what's wrong?" asked Emilio.

"Nothing, I just got a little dizzy all of a sudden."

"Well, why don't you sit down?" her mate suggested, nodding at the chair beside her. Catalina silently sat down, placing a paw to her forehead as she tried to will away her dizziness.

"I've been feeling a little off today," she said.

"Maybe you should lie down, then."

"No, I think I'm all right now."

0ooooooo0

Emilio waited outside for his sons to return home, needing to speak to Ciro alone. He had lost several hours of sleep the previous night, mostly due to mentally kicking himself for not saying anything when they had brought home the money, but it was just something he had not expected at all. He had spent the night thinking and preparing himself for what he wanted to say, as he knew he had to acknowledge what his sons had done, but he needed to speak to Ciro first.

The feline looked up when he heard his sons making their way up the dirt trail. He sighed and pushed himself off the fence and went to greet them. "Listen, I want to talk to Ciro for a minute."

Ciro's brows furrowed with concern. "Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine. Just walk with me for a second."

Víctor and Benito headed inside while Ciro followed his father, securing his arms behind his back as he casually walked through the grass. The older cat kept his silence for a few moments, but the tabby did not press him to speak. He simply waited.

"I know I really didn't say much yesterday," Emilio finally spoke.

"I thought you might be upset about it," Ciro responded.

"Why would I be upset?"

"Well, it's just that I thought it might make you feel worse about not being able to work. I didn't know how you'd handle the idea of someone working in your place."

"Well, obviously I hate that I can't work, but I can't be angry that you boys are working instead. When someone in the family is unable, someone else needs to step up and take on the responsibility, but we didn't even have to tell you that. You boys just jumped right in without so much as a nudge."

Ciro's only response was a shrug.

"I'll definitely have to thank James."

Ciro chuckled. "Actually, he told me this was sort of his way of thanking _you_."

Emilio stopped and leaned against the fence. "Well…the reason I wanted to talk to you was because I know now that you're ready to leave."

Ciro could only stare at his father, unsure of what to say. The older cat ran a paw across the back of his neck. "It's really not enough just to have the skill. There's more to it than that. You _do _have the skill, the perseverance and ambition, but…I was still unsure if you were _truly _ready."

"You didn't think I could do it?"

"Mijo, you have to reach mental maturity in order to really take this on. You may be an adult, but just because you're an adult physically doesn't mean you've reached that stage mentally." The elder cat chuckled when he saw his son's face scrunch into a grimace, displaying his clear offense to his father's words. "And I don't want you to think that I mean you were immature in the strongest sense of the word, because you weren't. You've shown me time and time again that you are decisive and strong-willed. I was almost certain you could do it, but I wanted to be sure, and you've demonstrated to me that you're ready now. You took on a responsibility without having to be told, and you didn't wait around to do it. The moment you saw we were in trouble, you took action.

"When I settled down with your mother, I knew it was time for me to hang up my sword. Somehow I knew in the back of my mind I'd have to pick it up again some day, but the point is, I had new responsibilities, and I didn't hesitate to give up my old, wild and reckless life for the one I have now. And believe me, somewhere down the line, you're going to come to that crossroad as well, and it's not a decision that you can let linger. It's a choice that should honestly be subconscious to you; you shouldn't even _have _to think about it, and I don't think you will."

Ciro stared at the grass beneath his feet, mouth agape. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as his mind processed his father's words. "So…you weren't going to let me leave?"

Emilio smiled, casting the most relaxed gaze his son had seen in about a week towards the clear, blue sky. "Well, I may have tried to extend your training a bit longer, which wouldn't have been a complete lie."

"I thought you said I was finished?"

"Well, you were for the most part, but you can never train enough."

"How else would you have known if I was ready had I not been put to the test?"

"Well, I probably would have just asked straight forward questions. I have no reason to think you wouldn't answer them honestly, and I know I couldn't have stalled you forever, otherwise you would have gone stark raving mad and eaten me alive if I didn't eventually let you go. At that point, I would have just had to go on faith."

"So…it's really time, then?"

Emilio's smile grew. "The world's waiting for you. You can take her on whenever you like."

Ciro felt an odd sensation in his stomach, which most would describe as butterflies, though to the tabby, it felt more like multiple tidal waves crashing against the walls of his stomach. "I…wow," he said with a nervous laugh. "But…I don't think I can leave now, not with everything that's happened. I think I need to stay."

"Son, things aren't so bad that we can't handle it without you here, but you don't have to leave right this second. You can wait a day or so. It's not like I'm going to throw you from the house if you don't hurry up and get out of here."

Ciro nodded, still feeling that the timing was bad and that he should postpone his departure, but he figured he'd sleep on in and decide in the morning.

Suddenly, the front door flew open and they saw Víctor race outside, panic-stricken. "Mom just collapsed!" he shouted. Both Emilio and Ciro raced back to the cottage, following after the younger male as he darted back inside. Once through the door, they saw Benito kneeling next to Catalina just outside the archway of the kitchen, trying to help her to sit up. She appeared to still be conscious but was clearly disoriented and fighting to stay awake."

"What happened?" Emilio asked urgently as he helped his mate to her feet, which was difficult when he could only use one arm.

"Well I guess I fainted, didn't I?" Catalina snapped. Even when barely conscious, she still managed to spit sarcasm. "I don't know what came over me. My vision just became really blotchy and distorted, and then the next thing I knew, I'm looking up at the ceiling."

Benito and Emilio helped Catalina into the bedroom, urging her to lie down. "Someone go get her a glass of water," Emilio instructed to no one in particular. Ciro quickly left to fulfill the request before anyone could blink.

"Look, you don't need to fuss over me. It was just a fainting spell. It's no big deal," said the female as she tried to fight off her husband's firm paw, which was currently trying to push her down onto the bed.

"_Sneezing_ is no big deal," Emilio protested. "You need to stay in bed. If you're getting sick, then you shouldn't make it worse."

Catalina sighed, shaking her head in annoyance. Her bushy tail thumped against the bed in agitation as she hoped she wouldn't have to be confined to the bed for very long.

0ooooooo0

Emilio made his way towards the kitchen, curiously taking notice of the dim orange glow that trickled through the entryway, which told him someone was already in the kitchen. He knew it was one of the boys since Catalina was still sleeping next to him when he had woken up, and his gut told him that it was Ciro.

His guess was confirmed once he stepped through the archway that led to the kitchen, finding Ciro sitting at the head of the table, face in paws. "I take it you've got a lot on your mind?" his father asked.

"Si," Ciro mumbled into his paws. "Why are _you _up?"

"My arm was bothering me." Emilio had a seat at the table. "Okay, let's hear it," he said.

"I can't go," Ciro blurted out, letting his paws fall to the surface of the table. "Don't you see? There's some kind of unknown force that's trying to keep me here. Why else would we be having all this bad luck? First you get hurt, and now Mamá's sick. It's just one thing right after another. Maybe I'm not meant to do this."

"Mijo, I'm sure there are people out there who have it far worse than us and would kick you for saying that. We'll be fine."

"But what if things just keep getting worse?"

"You can't just put your life on hold because you think something _might _happen. What if people didn't do _anything _because they were afraid of what would happen? They'd be missing out on a lot, and I don't want that to happen with you. This is what you've worked for. I _want _you to go, son."

Ciro shook his head. "I don't know."

"Ciro, you're an adult now, and there's a new life waiting for you outside the nest, and we can't expect you to put that life on hold just because we've run into a few problems."

"Sure you can."

Emilio laughed. "No, we can't. Problems are inevitable. They're going to happen, and we can't keep you prisoner here in case they do."

"You're not forcing me to stay, I _want _to stay."

"No, you don't. I know you feel like you need to stay, but I know how badly you want to leave. This is all you've been able to think about since you were a kid. So go, or I _will _throw you from this house if I have to," the older male added playfully.

"How are you going to throw me with that arm?" Ciro teased. Emilio's smile transformed into a scowl and Ciro winced. "Too soon?"

"_Way _too soon."

"Sorry."

0ooooooo0

Ciro wanted to spend one more day at home before leaving, allowing himself time, as well as his brothers, to get used to the idea. Even though this was something that had been planned for most of his life, it was still hard to swallow the fact that within twenty-four hours, it would become a reality. But first, Paco needed to be groomed and prepped for the journey, and Ciro was certain his father needed to find a few things for him to take with him.

Ciro and his brothers were currently taking a break from working, sitting atop a log with glasses of water. They watched the other workers continue building as they rested. Ciro glanced at his brothers and sighed, taking a quick gulp of water. He had yet to tell his brothers that he was leaving tomorrow, and he couldn't let the hours keep slipping by.

"Listen…" Ciro began, catching his brothers' attention. "I'm going to be leaving tomorrow," he said bluntly. He took in their reactions, which both seemed to display the same emotions upon first hearing the news, but Víctor's expression was becoming more bothersome.

"Why didn't you give us a heads up sooner?" he asked, a bit of irritation tinting his tone.

"Well, honestly I was debating whether I should leave or not. I really just made up my mind last night."

Benito's eyes fell to the ground. "It seems too soon, though," he said sadly.

"But you _knew _this was coming," Ciro reminded him.

"Great," Víctor snarled. "As if things weren't already going downhill for us, you decide to hit the trail when things are the worst."

Benito quickly elbowed him in his side, shooting him a glare. Ciro could only stare, his brother's words a sharp slap in the face to him, which reinforced exactly what he was feeling the previous night. "Víctor…"

"Let's just get back to work," the younger red tabby snapped as he abruptly stood up. Benito glanced at his older sibling apologetically, and then followed after the retreating feline. Ciro remained where he sat for quite some time before he could muster up the willpower to move.

0ooooooo0

Víctor had not spoken another word to Ciro in hours. He had barely looked at him during the hours they spent working, and he kept his gaze to the front on their way home. Ciro didn't press him, figuring it was best to just let his younger sibling process his thoughts first, and then perhaps he could approach him again. It was easy to be irrational at the spur of the moment when one's emotions were stirred up, after all.

Ciro had migrated off to his bedroom once he had come home, eager for a nap. After napping for about an hour, he decided it was a good time to see if Víctor had cooled off. He approached his brothers' bedroom apprehensively, knocking on the partially opened door before pushing it open. He saw no sign of Víctor but spotted Benito resting on the top bunk, busy reading a book.

"Where's Víctor?"

"He disappeared a few minutes ago."

Ciro started to leave to seek out his missing brother but stopped suddenly, glancing at his brother regretfully. "Beni…are you okay with this? Are you upset that I'm leaving?"

Benito set his book aside and directed his full attention to his older sibling. "Well, it's not like I want you to go," he said honestly.

"Well, I mean, do you think I _should _leave?"

Benito shrugged. "I can't answer that. You've trained for this for months. It's your life, not mine."

Ciro only sighed.

"What does Papi say?" asked the younger tabby.

"He _wants _me to do it."

"Well, then _do_ it."

Ciro shook his head in dissatisfaction, his sibling's words bringing little relief to his conflicting thoughts. "I need to talk to Víctor," he growled as he turned to leave. Víctor was the one who clearly had a problem and _wasn't _afraid to say so, as had been demonstrated earlier. Whether Benito truly meant what he said, the cream tabby would never say otherwise. He just wasn't like Víctor in the way he processed and expressed his feelings; he refused to ever say anything that may hurt his brother.

Once Ciro had left, Benito let out a shaky sigh, lowering his head to the pillow. He turned to face the wall, his welling tears spilling out as a result of his turned position. He took in sharp intakes of air, letting them out as quietly as he could, trying to fight the urge to sob. He didn't know how he'd be able to cope with his brother gone. He had always seen him as more of a second father to him, rather than a brother. Though he would never repeat what Víctor had so thoughtlessly said to him, he honestly held those same fears. He knew Ciro wasn't abandoning them, as Víctor made it sound, but he didn't know how easy it would be for them to go on with him gone. He probably wouldn't be as worried if life didn't keep kicking them in the butt at every turn.

But despite his doubts, he was not about to let his brother down.

0ooooooo0

Ciro finally located his sibling in the back yard with his back turned to him, his front facing the temple. "What are you doing out here?" Ciro asked as he came to stand on his brother's right side. Víctor refused to look at him, continuing to glare at the temple. "Come on, Víctor, we need to talk about this."

"How can you leave now?" the younger feline asked.

"I'm not doing this to _hurt _you," Ciro replied. "I've been waiting for this day ever since I was a kitten."

"Is it really that important to you?"

"Yes."

"More important than us?"

Ciro took a step back, shocked that his brother could even ask such a question. "Víctor, you're not being fair!"

"_I'm _not being fair? I happen to recall you telling me and Beni that you'd always be here, and that you'd never leave."

Ciro felt himself getting smaller and smaller. "Víctor, you knew this day was coming," he replied meekly. "This is what I've worked for. It's a chapter in our family history that I don't want to see erased. I can't turn it down."

Víctor snorted in disgust. "Well, I hope you have fun," he spat. "Send me a postcard." With that, he turned sharply and retreated back to the cottage, leaving his sibling to stare after him. He slowly brought his focus to the temple, looking on past the entryway and finding the painting. He held the unanimated gaze of the feline depicted on the canvas for a brief moment before finally turning to go inside, his shoulders slumped and ears lowered.

Ciro returned to his room, closing the door behind him and leaning his back against it for a moment. He squeezed his eyes shut, reaching a paw up to his face as his shoulders shook with the first wave of sobs. With a shaky sigh, he approached his bed and laid down on his side. Pressing his face into his pillow, he quietly wept.

0ooooooo0

Donkey scowled. "Man, your brother's an ass," he blurted out, catching a break in the story. He noticed Shrek and Fiona both turn to shoot him annoyed glares. "What?" he said defensively, looking between them. "It ain't like you both weren't thinking it!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Originally, I wasn't going to add the scene with Donkey at the end, but I started wondering if people were thinking the same thing as they got to the end of the chapter, and since Donkey has a habit of shooting his mouth off without thinking, I thought it'd be funny to stick that scene at the end. But I'm hoping people aren't so angry with Víctor after the events of the earlier chapters.

I'm really sorry, guys. I intended to update Friday to celebrate the release of the new movie, but then, out of the blue, we were planning on going out of town for a few days, and so I decided to bump the update up to Wednesday, but THEN my computer got the Blue Screen of Death and had to be taken to the shop. We dropped it off Thursday right before we went out of town. The guy told us the laptop wouldn't be expected to be ready for about seven days, but then we get a call on Saturday telling us that it was ready so I was very happy, otherwise I probably wouldn't have gotten it back until this Friday. Also, I haven't seen the new movie yet, so I ask that people please not post any spoilers in the reviews. We're probably going to see it tomorrow. However, I managed to collect all the Shrek glasses from McDonalds, so I'm happy about that.

Thanks for 3,000+ hits! I checked my stats for May 21st and onward, and I had 35 hits for the 21st, and a whopping 102 hits for Saturday. I had a feeling my hit count would go up once the new movie came out.


	18. Puss In Boots VI

Chapter XVIII:  
**Puss In Boots VI**

Ciro finally sat up after having spent a fair amount of time weeping, as well as rethinking his situation. He dried his eyes the best he could, staring at the wall in thought. He was still unsure of what to do, but he finally decided it was best to get an opinion from the one person he had yet to talk to about his doubts.

The tabby threw his legs over the side of the bed and left the room to seek out his mother, not sure if she'd really be in the mood to talk. She hadn't gotten out of bed much, as his father was pretty adamant about her getting her rest, despite her constant protests. He came into the bedroom to see Catalina sitting up in bed, wide awake, with Emilio resting by her side.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here," his mother said. "Can you _please _get rid of this pest?" she asked as she jerked a thumb to her mate. Emilio rolled his eyes.

"So I'm a pest because I want to take care of you?"

"I'm not a vegetable, Emilio! I don't need you hovering over me every second of the day! Give me a little room to breathe!"

"What did you need, Ciro?" Emilio asked, ignoring the complaints of his wife.

"Well, I kind of needed to talk to Mom."

"Well, go ahead," the older male replied, nodding to his wife. Catalina was the one who rolled her eyes this time.

"He's trying to tell you to scram, Emilio," she quipped. "And please do. I'd like to be rid of you for five minutes."

Emilio growled as he slipped out of bed. "This is the thanks I get," he mumbled under his breath.

"You know I love you, sweetie, but you're smothering me," said the female. As soon as Emilio left the room, Ciro quickly shut the door. "Are you all right?" his mother asked quickly as she studied his face a bit more closely. "You've been crying."

"No, I haven't," Ciro replied hastily.

"Yes, you have," Catalina asserted, noticing that his eyes had a slight redness to them, but before she could go on expressing her concern, Ciro quickly brought his troubles to light:

"Mama, you don't want me to leave, right?" he asked.

"You know I've never wanted you to leave."

"Then just say it again, Mami. Tell me right now that you don't want me to go and I won't! I'll stay here and take care of you and Papi." Ciro sat down on the bed and took his mother's paw into his. "Say it! Say it and I'll do it!"

Catalina's sienna eyes softened. "I don't want you to go," she said.

"All right, then," Ciro replied, figuring he had gotten the answer he had asked for.

"_But,_" his mother continued, "I'm telling you to go."

Ciro looked beyond taken aback at hearing this. "What? But you just said you don't want me to go!"

"Baby, you know I've always dreaded this, but I'm not about to take something away from you that you've been waiting for all your life! I know how much you've been looking forward to this. And to be perfectly honest, I'm a bit jealous."

"Jealous? Of what, Mami?"

"Well, when you put aside the risks that are involved, this is an adventure on a grand scale. You're going to see the world. You'll meet interesting people, see new places, and learn so much. And plus, how else are you going to find a wife and give me grandchildren to spoil if you don't leave?"

Ciro grinned. "What if I don't want kids, though?"

Catalina's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you're going to give me grandkids even if it means me having to pimp you out to someone!"

Ciro lost himself in a fit of laughter, though it was very brief. Once he was calm again, his smile faded and his worries returned. "But…with everything that's happened…"

"So we've hit a few bumps in the road," Catalina replied with a shrug. "What family doesn't?"

"Bumps? More like mountains. And it seems like no matter how high we climb, we eventually break through the clouds only to find more mountain."

Catalina laughed. "Well, then we'll just have to keep climbing. In actuality, life is all just a huge mountain that we must climb, but it really doesn't have a peak. You just keep climbing it." Catalina took her other paw and cupped it under Ciro's. "I never thought I'd say this but…I want you to get the hell out of here. Your mountain is out there, waiting for you to climb it, so do it. Just _please _don't fall off." The female laughed before adding, "I know you thought I was the last person who'd say that."

"No, I think Víctor already took your place."

Catalina frowned. "What'd you mean?"

"He's giving me hell about leaving."

Catalina sighed, shaking her head. "Well, don't worry about him. He's just scared, same as you. Don't let it get to you."

"Too late."

"Is that what's upsetting you?"

"Well, in a way, yes, but I was already having doubts before I found out he had such a big problem with this."

Catalina offered a reassuring smile and gently rubbed her son's forearm soothingly. "Like I said, just don't worry about it. Hopefully, he'll cool off after a few days. And we'll be fine, I promise you."

0ooooooo0

Catalina had managed to convince Emilio that she was feeling well enough to leave the bed, though he certainly didn't let her go without a fight, but she quickly reminded him that she _had _get up and move around, as being confined to a bed at all hours of the day wasn't good for her, either. Not only that, she had to eventually go outside to relieve herself, and so he had no choice at that point.

Emilio had already finished grooming Paco and also filed and cleaned the bottom of his hooves. After he had finished doing this, he returned inside just as the sun was beginning to disappear over the horizon. He sought Ciro out and asked him to follow him into his and Catalina's bedroom.

"I was going to hold off giving you this until tomorrow, but I might as well show it to you now," Emilio said as they entered the bedroom. Ciro stood by silently as he watched his father open the wardrobe and retrieve his feathered hat. "We sort of have another tradition _within _the tradition," he said with a chuckle. "You see, the hat and boots are durable and can last for decades, but a feather? Not so much," he said as he nodded to the rather scraggily looking red feather secured within the folded brim of his hat. He sat the hat down on the bed, and then returned to the wardrobe, bending down to pick up a long, rectangular shaped box. "So here."

Ciro reached out his paw and slowly took the box, lifting its lid to find a large, canary yellow feather resting inside it.

"With each new Puss, they are given their own feather. I personally think red's a better choice, since it matches the trim on the hat and boots, but I know yellow's your favorite color."

Ciro removed the feather from the box and held it up, amazed by how it seemed to dance and sway as a result of the tiniest movements. "Did you keep the other feathers?"

"Yep, they're in here," Emilio replied as he returned to the wardrobe again and retrieved a much larger box. He sat it down on the bed and removed the lid. Ciro peeked inside, finding several feathers of various sizes and colors. Emilio took the opportunity to remove his own feather and drop it into the box. Counting his, there were two red feathers, a black feather and two white feathers. "This one was my father's," Emilio said with admiration, holding up the black feather.

"Which one's Pedro's?"

"This one," Emilio replied, picking up one of the white feathers, which was easily the most worn and damaged of all the feathers. "His Puss In Boots career lasted the longest. For ten years, he wore the boots, even after he had found a wife. He just couldn't give it up." Emilio returned the feather to the box, closing the lid over it . He picked the hat back up and held it out to his son. "Well, go ahead and get it on there."

Ciro took the hat and secured the feather in place, holding the hat up with both paws to see how it looked to him. Emilio touched his finger to the top of his head, silently gesturing for the younger feline to put it on. His grin widening, the tabby placed the black, newly-feathered hat onto his head. Emilio smiled, nodding in satisfaction. "The look suits you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, go see," the elder cat said as he nodded to the mirror on the wall. Ciro quickly went to observe his new look, turning his head from side to side, and then tilting it up and down. He touched his paw to the brim, running it along the red trim. "Wow," he said.

"I think it looks better on you than it ever did me." Emilio clapped his son on the back, smiling proudly. "I suggest you get your rest. You're going to need it tomorrow."

Ciro ignored his father, continuing to admire his reflection.

"All right, gimme that before you start kissing the mirror," Emilio said as he snatched the hat from his son's head.

0ooooooo0

It was no surprise that Ciro hadn't slept much the previous night. Three hours was about all he had managed to sleep, but he still felt like he had more than enough energy to get him through the day. After a hasty breakfast, his father nodded for him to follow him into the bedroom, wanting to dress him for his departure.

"Okay, sit down on the edge of the bed there," Emilio said as he and Ciro entered the bedroom. Ciro had insisted that he could dress himself and that he didn't need his father's help, but Emilio saw it as more of a way of officially passing the tradition on to him, which Ciro saw as being a bit silly but ultimately decided to let him have his way.

The black and white cat placed the boots down on the floor in front of his son. "Okay, see how they feel."

Ciro lifted his feet and placed them into the boots, pushing himself off the bed into a standing position. He took a few steps and quickly became unbalanced. "They feel a bit odd."

"You'll get used to it."

"Who made these, anyway? Were they custom made, like the sword?"

"Actually, I think they were made for small human children, and they ended up being just right for Pedro. They were imported here from Madrid and clearly, whoever made them, they used very high quality material. Considering all those boots have been through, it's amazing they've lasted this long. They don't have their sheen anymore, but they're still in great condition. Forget the fact that they've been through a lot, they're also over thirty years old."

Emilio next picked up the cape. "Okay, stand there for a second," he said as he threw the cape over Ciro's head and around his back, securing the shoulder clasps in place. He then reached over and grabbed the belt. "I'll let you put this on since you're going to need to adjust it to where it fits properly."

Ciro took the leather belt and wrapped it around his waist, bringing the end through the gold buckle. He settled for the third notch, not wanting the belt to be too tight or too loose. He nodded to his father, who then picked up his hat. After placing it on his head, he stepped back to look him over, his smile growing. He slowly reached over the bed to pick up the sword, grabbing it by the thin blade rather than the handle. He regarded the weapon with a bit of sadness, knowing he'd never use it again. He caught his son's gaze again and held the weapon out to him. "This is it," he said.

Ciro could hardly nod in agreement as he slowly slipped a shaky paw around the handle of the sword, taking it from his father's grasp. He held it straight up, vaguely wondering how many battles it had seen, as well as how many lay before it. Smiling, he slipped the sword into the slot on his belt.

"There's one more thing," Emilio said as he pulled the drawer of the nightstand open. He removed what at first seemed to be a leather strap, but then Ciro quickly took notice of the knife sheathe and its intended cargo secured within it. "This was your grandfather's," his father stated as he pulled the knife from its sheathe, turning it from side to side. "It's good for defense, but it'll also come in handy when you hunt. Take good care of it," the elder cat said as he placed the knife back into its holder and then handed the strap to Ciro, which he secured across his shoulder and chest. "I'll go get Paco ready."

Emilio walked past Ciro and made his way out of the room. His son followed him out but turned and headed out the back door, while his father made his way for the front door. However, he stopped at the kitchen when he saw his mate sitting alone at the table, face in her paws. "Are you all right?" he asked, stepping into the kitchen. "Are you feeling sick again?"

Catalina sighed, revealing her tired face. "I'm just trying to get myself together here. I don't want to break down and start crying all over him."

"Well…you can go ahead and cry all over me if you want," Emilio offered, smiling. He was a bit surprised when Catalina shot up out of her chair and practically threw herself against Emilio's chest. She let her tears flow freely, her shoulders trembling with her sobs. Emilio leaned his head against hers, slinking his uninjured arm around her back. "He's going to be fine," he reassured.

"I know, I know," Catalina whimpered, wiping her eyes. "It's just hard not knowing when I'll see him again. It's not like he's moving to a new home. He could be just ten miles from here one week, and then be halfway across the world the next. It may be years before we see him again."

"But imagine how much he'll see and learn in those years."

"I know. That's exactly what I told him yesterday."

"Yesterday? You mean when you kicked me out?"

Catalina grinned. "Si. He was having doubts about leaving, but I told him that he couldn't pass it up."

"_You _told him that?"

"Shocker, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Emilio chuckled. He purred softly as he nuzzled his mate's face. "But I'm glad you did."

0ooooooo0

Ciro knelt down on the cold, stone floor of the temple, removing his sword and placing its tip to the floor, while removing his hat with his free paw and holding it against his chest. "I wish _you _could offer me some words of wisdom here," he said. "My family is right, I _do _want to do this, but it is a question of whether or not I _should, _and if they had the same doubts I do, I don't think they'd even bother to tell me. For some reason, I feel like a kitten again, and Mami and Papi are tip-toeing around me while trying to create the illusion that everything is daises and sunshine and nothing bad could ever happen."

The tabby glanced up at the painting. "Please…tell me what to do," he begged, knowing deep down he would never get an answer.

"I think you're losing it," came a voice. Had he truly been on the brink of insanity, Ciro probably would have thought it was the painting talking to him.

"Hola, Henry," he said as he stood up and returned his hat to his head.

"Nice look," the bird said as he looked the cat up and down, grinning.

"Gracias," the cat replied as he put away his sword.

"When are you heading out?"

"In a few minutes."

"Guess I got here just in time, then." The swan eyed the feline curiously. "Hard to believe you're finally leaving. I can only imagine what _you're _feeling right now."

"Yeah," Ciro replied, his tone low and doubtful. Henry frowned.

"So what's troubling you? Last minute jitters?"

"I wish. Everything's going wrong right now. I just don't know if I can do this anymore."

"But you've been planning for this for a long time."

"I know! That's what everyone keeps telling me. This is all I've ever thought about doing, and I know how important this is to my father. He's proud of this tradition, and clearly my entire family was proud of it," Ciro replied as he extended his arms out, gesturing to the temple they were standing in. "I mean, for crying out loud, my great grandfather built a temple in his grandfather's honor!"

"So what, then?"

"It's different now! I didn't plan on my father becoming disabled or my mother getting sick!"

Henry suddenly looked startled. "Wait, when did she get sick?"

"She fainted the other day. She seems better now, but I don't know. I know it's something serious, I can just sense it."

"Well…I'll be around. I'm not going anywhere. I can always help out if they need it. Of course, I'm not sure what good I'd be," the swan laughed. "I'm pretty useless."

"You're anything but useless, amigo. You've done more for us than you give yourself credit for."

The bird shrugged. "Think nothing of it," he said, smiling. A short silence passed between them before Henry sighed sadly. "Well, I wish you all the luck in the world. Don't get killed out there."

Ciro chuckled. "I'll try my best."

The swan extended a wing and embraced his friend, which Ciro returned by wrapping his arms around his slender neck. "I'm sure you'll have lots of stories to tell when you come back. Just promise that you'll always keep an open mind. I want to see you return the same as you are now, got it?"

"Si, I promise." Ciro frowned upon saying this, wondering if perhaps it was realistic to make such a promise. He knew this would be a life changing experience. Was it really possible he could embark on such a journey and come back one day, completely the same as he had been when he left?

"I guess I'll see you later," Henry said with a bit of sadness. "I'll try to visit your mom every week."

Ciro smiled warmly. "Thanks."

With a final smile and wave goodbye, the swan turned away from the feline and took to the air, leaving the cat alone once more. He turned to stare at the painting again, his uncertainty breaking the surface again.

"There you are," he heard the voice of his father say. "Trying to get all your thoughts sorted out?"

"You could say that."

Emilio stepped into the temple, holding a small pouch in one paw. "There's one last thing I need to give to you," he said. He absentmindedly reached out with his injured arm and instantly regretted it as he felt a sharp, burning pain. He pulled the arm back down, hissing in pain as he placed a paw against the bandaged wound.

"I thought you said you didn't feel any pain?"

"Well, that wasn't entirely the case," Emilio replied through gritted teeth. "A lot of the nerves were destroyed, so I don't feel pain in those places, but there are some places, mostly underneath my arm that weren't burned as severely, and ironically enough, _those _are the spots that hurt like hell. But the pain is almost bearable." The cat relaxed a bit as the pain subsided, though it didn't vanish completely. The pain was there constantly ever since he had first acquired the injury, and it was when he moved his arm that the pain flared up. Emilio figured that when he had first been burned, he didn't really notice the pain initially due to his shock, but he certainly noticed it once the hours passed by. "Could you pick up the urn and hold it out to me?"

Ciro silently did as his father asked, a bit curious now of his intentions. Emilio removed the lid of the urn and set it atop the shelf. He then reached in to gather a handful of the ashes. He placed them into the small pouch, unable to avoid using his injured arm to complete the task and so had to bite his lip when he felt the pain shoot up his arm. "You see…when Pedro was on his death bed, he knew he wanted to be cremated, but he didn't know where he wanted his ashes to be spread. And so as the tradition carries on, we each take a portion of the ashes with us and spread them at a location of our choosing along the journey."

Ciro couldn't refrain from grinning. "This family has a lot of traditions."

"That we do."

Emilio pulled the ties, closing the pouch, while Ciro placed the urn back on its shelf. "My father told me about how he spread his ashes on the side of a mountain he camped on, looking down into a valley."

"So it doesn't matter where I spread them?"

"Nope. You can spread them wherever you like," Emilio replied as he hung the pouch around Ciro's neck. "You're all set."

Ciro appeared almost dazed upon hearing this.

"Do you need me to hold your paw?" his father teased.

"Shut up," the tabby snapped, swatting his father's paw away.

"Go wait in the front. I'll bring Paco around to you."

Ciro nodded and walked on ahead, finding it difficult to will his feet to move within the leather boots. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _This is it _he told himself. _The adventure of a lifetime is at my fingertips…and I feel like I'm going to throw up. Perfect._ The tabby came around to the front of the cottage where he would mount his steed, unable to keep from pacing nervously. He looked up when he saw his father coming towards him, guiding the small horse. He saw him untie a large, clearly aged and worn sack from the horse's saddle. "Can you believe this thing is still in one piece?" he said as he tossed it to his son. "That's the same bag Pedro used to catch his game for the king."

"Really?"

"Yep. It may have a few holes in it, but it's still usable. Just take it with you incase you need it."

Ciro frowned when he felt a weight in the bag. He reached inside to the bottom and pulled out a small sack of coins. He sighed, holding up the sack for his father to see.

"Gee, how'd that get in there?"

"I wonder. Think you're clever, don't you? Hoping I wouldn't notice this until ten miles down the road?"

Emilio rolled his eyes. "Just take the money, mijo."

Ciro shook his head firmly, handing the bag back to his father. "No, you need it more than I do."

"No, _you _need it. Just hold on to it and treat yourself to a hot, three course meal when the opportunity comes along…or a bottle of booze, whichever floats your boat."

Ciro sighed, tossing the money back into the sack, and then looped the ties around his shoulder, the bag resting against his cape. Emilio handed Paco's reins over to the tabby, and he quickly went to the front door to call for the rest of the family. "Get out here, he's leaving!"

It wasn't but a few seconds before Benito bolted through the front door. He hardly gave Ciro enough time to react before he threw his arms around him. "You promise to write, right?" he asked.

"Right," Ciro answered, chuckling.

"Every day?"

"No, I don't think I can _every _day. My letters would be pretty boring if I did."

As Benito pulled away, Ciro noticed his mother stepping outside.

"Cat, are you even feeling up to being out here?" Emilio asked out of concern.

"Will you stop worrying so much? I promise you, I'm fine! Even if both my legs were busted, I'd drag myself out here. Nothing's going to keep me from saying goodbye."

"I could have come inside to say goodbye, Mami," said Ciro.

Catalina scowled and swatted her son's arm. "Hush. I said I'm fine." Her face softening, she pulled Ciro into a tight embrace. "_Please _stay safe," she said, her hold tightening with her words. Ciro grunted as he tried to wiggle free of his mother's vice grip.

"I can't breathe," he gasped. "I think you're crushing my ribs."

"Love hurts, remember?" Pulling back, Catalina smiled both proudly and sadly. She lifted her son's hat to kiss his head. "Don't act stupid out there." Catalina stepped back but still kept a paw placed to Ciro's shoulder, unable to bring herself to fully let him go. Ciro looked past his mother and spotted Víctor standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and tail flicking from side to side. Ciro offered the best smile he could, but it quickly crumbled, replaced by a look of grief.

Both Catalina and Emilio eyed Víctor sternly, clearly giving the order for him to say goodbye to his brother without having to actually say it. His face twisted into a grimace and he focused his glare on the ground as he made his way over to Ciro. He embraced him briefly and not very tightly at that. Ciro barely had time to return the hug before his brother pulled back with such swiftness that it was almost as if he had been burned. "Bye," he mumbled curtly, not once looking Ciro in the eye, which felt like a knife to his chest.

Catalina shook her head, looking apologetically to Ciro. "Don't worry about it," she whispered to him. Ciro nodded sadly, turning to mount his steed, but his mother, still having not let go of his arm, pulled him back towards her. "Mama…" Ciro whined as Catalina pulled him into another hug.

"Just give me a minute," she said.

"Cat, let the boy go!"

"I said give me a minute!" After a few moments, Catalina managed to pull herself away, finally releasing her son, though it was difficult. Emilio pulled Ciro into an embrace as well, though it wasn't nearly as long, nor as painful.

"Take care of yourself," he said, patting Ciro's shoulder.

"You, too."

Pulling back, Emilio paused, holding his son's gaze momentarily before removing his hat and planting a quick kiss to his head. Grinning, he ruffled the fur on his head, and then set the hat back in place. "All right, scram."

Ciro placed a foot into the stirrup and hoisted himself up onto the horse, getting a firm hold of the reins. "Adios," he said as he smiled down at his family. He urged the horse to walk and slowly, he left behind the life he knew. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder at his home, feeling his heart growing heavy. He had left behind his life as Ciro Delgado and was now entering his new life as Puss In Boots.

0ooooooo0

After the excitement of finally leaving home had worn off, the rookie Puss In Boots was feeling a bit unsure of himself. This was supposed to be the greatest journey of a lifetime, and yet he had no destination. He had simply planned to follow the trail, but the more he thought about it, the sillier the idea sounded. Why follow a trail when there was no real destination? There was no sense in fearing getting lost, as one couldn't get lost if they had no destination.

"What do you think, Paco?" Puss asked his steed. "Should we ditch the trail?"

The little horse simply gave a snort, flicking its ear as a fly flew too close. Puss had almost decided to veer off the trail and into the surrounding forest, but he jerked on the reins when he heard shouting and angry curses not far away. He didn't know what to make of the situation at first, as he couldn't visibly see what was going on. He urged the horse into a steady trot, deciding to find out what the fuss was about.

The dirt trail extended over a hill, and Puss was certain whatever was going on, it was right over that hill. His heart began to race as he considered what awaited him and whether or not it was something he should involve himself with. He knew he couldn't throw himself in the middle of every confrontation he came across, but he had to admit that the thought of already putting his skills to the test made him tremble with excitement.

Reaching the top of the incline, Puss peered around Paco's head, taking in the sight of a large, horse-drawn wagon parked off to the side several yards away, and a group of five armored guards struggling to shackle a group of men armed with bows and arrows. At first glance, he assumed them to be bandits, but upon closer inspection of one of the men, it became clear that these weren't ordinary outlaws, and it was then that he quickly urged his steed forward, drawing his sword. Puss let out a loud battle cry as he lunged from his horse and descend upon a guard's shoulders. The dark-haired man he had been attempting to shackle took advantage of the situation and managed to wiggle out of his loosened grasp while the guard battled the assailant on his head. He grabbed the shackles, which had been dropped upon the feline's attack, and then quickly moved behind the guard to shackle his hands together while he was distracted.

Puss leapt from the guard's shoulders once he had been subdued, keeping his sword raised in preparation for an attack, which came just seconds later.

"Why you no good fleabag!" the man shouted as he drew his sword and brought it down in what would have been a killing blow if Puss had not moved fast enough. He smirked up at his opponent, surprised that his small, thin rapier was strong enough to withstand the force of the much larger, wider blade. Using every ounce of strength he had, he pushed back on his opponent's weapon, and then rolled under his legs before he could attempt another strike. Before the battle could continue, one of the outlaws swung a large sack of what Puss rightfully guessed to be stones, which struck the guard against the side of his helmet and knocked him to the ground. His attacker quickly seized him and pulled him towards the wagon.

Puss noticed that the men he had stepped in to assist had gotten the upper hand on the situation and were now in the process of loading the five guards into their own wagon. Apparently his intervention had taken the guards by surprise, which made it easier for the men they had attempted to arrest to turn the tables.

Once the guards were loaded up in the back of the wagon, the leader of the outlaws locked the doors and walked back to the front to smack one of the horses on the rump. The horse neighed loudly and took off, forcing the horse secured at its side to follow suit. The men laughed as the wagon was pulled out of sight, with the five guards locked inside. Their leader looked over at the tabby standing off to the side with a mix of curiosity, as well as gratitude.

"I must say, you came just in the nick of time," he said as he approached the cat, his smile growing as he studied the boot-clad feline. "Thank, you."

"My pleasure, Señor Robin Hood."

The man blinked. "You know who I am?"

"Of course," Puss replied as he went to retrieve his fallen hat. "I've read the stories. You are one of the most iconic figures who ever graced a story book, and I could not stand by and let such a figure be whisked away to some prison cell."

"Well, then…thank you, Monsieur Ciro," Robin Hood replied, tipping his feathered cap in a show of gratitude.

It was Puss's turn to blink this time. The man smiled down at him. "You are Emilio's boy," he stated without a hint of doubt.

"You know my father?"

"Indeed. I'm sure you recall your father coming home with a large sum of money several months back, yes?"

Puss nodded.

"Well, you see, your father joined up with my men and I, and we managed to steal the gold right from under Farquaad's nose, but we were eventually found out, as you clearly saw just moments ago."

Puss suddenly looked alarmed upon hearing this, but the outlaw was quick to ease his fears. "Do not fret, they do not know your father was involved, and we would never give him away. Your father is an old friend of mine."

The feline frowned as his gaze shifted to his boots. "Looks like my mother's fears were confirmed." He looked up to meet the man's eyes again, curious. "How exactly did you manage to steal the gold without being detected?"

"Well, your father did most of the work. Being a cat, it was easy for him to elude the guards."

Puss couldn't help but smirk.

"The night we camped out, he couldn't stop talking about you. He was certain that you were destined to be great, and I can see right now that he was correct."

Puss smiled, blushing beneath his red fur. "Gracias, but I do not think I could ever compare with my father."

"Oh, I think you will," the man assured, smiling. He reached down to his belt and untied a moderate size sack of coins. "Here, take this," he said as he handed it down to the cat.

"Oh…no, I couldn't."

"Please, I insist. I must pay you back in some way."

"No, really."

"Well, you do not need to take the money for yourself. Give it to someone who needs it."

Puss stared at the sack of money, his thoughts momentarily drifting to his family. He knew how much the money would help them, and it would definitely help to ease his concerns for their welfare. Sighing, he took the money, tipping his hat to the man in thanks.

"Good luck to you," said the famed outlaw.

"And to you."

"All right, Merry Men! Off we go! Let us deliver our bounty to those who need it!"

With their weapons and gold gathered, the men took off into the forest, their leader following closely behind, leaving the feline alone. He clicked his tongue twice and the little horse galloped over to greet him. Puss slipped the large burlap sack from his back and placed his newly-acquired sack of money inside. With a grunt, he swung the worn sack around his back again and hoisted himself onto his steed. He urged the horse forward, and they continued on their way.

0ooooooo0

Puss gently pulled back on the reins, the trickling sound of a stream catching his ear. His thirst was distracting, and he was certain Paco needed to drink as well. He dismounted the horse and followed the sound of the flowing water, guiding his steed forward. When the shallow, narrow stream came into view, Puss released the reins and allowed the horse to drink freely.

Kneeling down, Puss fetched a large, oval-shaped leaf that had fallen from its tree and dipped it into the water. He curled the leaf and lifted it to his lips, trying to keep as much of the water within the leaf as possible. The water trickled from the end of the leaf and into the feline's open mouth, cool and crisp. He licked his lips, letting the leaf fall into the stream. His ears rotated in response to the sound of hooves walking steadily across the dirt path. The feline didn't express any concern, figuring it was just someone passing through on their horse or perhaps being transported in a carriage.

Once Paco's thirst had been satisfied, Puss quickly mounted him again and started back for the trail, hardly curious as to what was approaching him, but as he was finally granted with a visual of the approaching party, his fur began to raise slightly. He saw three men, all dressed in silver shoulder, leg and arm plates, with vibrant red tunics which were draped over the mesh worn under the armor. Behind those men he saw another horse-drawn wagon, very similar to the one he had seen earlier. He calmly stopped his horse, putting a paw to his sword, sensing a confrontation about to emerge.

"Who goes there?" the middle guard asked, narrowing his eyes through his helmet at the feline.

"I hardly think that is any of your concern, señor," Puss replied coolly.

"It talks, sir," another guard spoke up, slowing his horse to a halt. The middle guard quickly dismounted his steed. He reached inside his tunic, pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment.

"You are in this land illegally," he stated firmly, unrolling the warrant. "By order of Lord Farquaad, we are to place you under arrest and relocate you outside of Duloc. If you do not comply, we will have no choice but to use excessive force. Dismount your steed at once," the man ordered.

"Mmm…no," Puss replied.

"Very well, then, you leave me no choice," the guard replied as he started to advance on the cat. As he reached out his hand to seize him, Paco shot his head forward and attempted to bite the man's fingers, which promptly caused him to jump back.

Puss smirked, patting the horse's neck. "Good boy."

The man growled, pointing a finger at the cat. "Seize him!" he shouted, and the remaining two men quickly dismounted and charged at the cat.

"All right, let's go!" Puss shouted as he leapt from his horse, drawing his sword. The men did the same, coming at him from every angle. He did more avoiding than actual fighting, practically dancing around the men as they tried to keep up with him. He managed to trip one of them up, which caused a domino affect, resulting in the other men tripping and falling over him as well. They scrambled to get back to their feet, swinging their swords in anger. Puss jumped as one of the blades swooped under his feet, while raising his rapier to block another. _What a rush! _he thought to himself.

As the battle migrated to the back of the wagon, Puss's ears caught the sound of cheering and loud shouts of encouragement. He shifted his attention away for just a second to find several fairy tale creatures peering through the bars of the wagon. Focusing his attention back on the battle, he briefly caught sight of a set of keys looped together on a large ring, which was secured to the belt of one of the men. His determination flared as he dodged the swing of a sword and snatched the keys from the man's belt.

"Give those back!" he shouted as he and the two other men chased after him. Puss ran through the woods as fast as his hind legs could carry him. He hoped to put enough distance between himself and the guards so that he could do a quick U-turn and make it back to the wagon in order to free the fairy tale creatures. Of course, it would be easier if he could find some way to throw them off course first, but as long as he was in their sight, it made things more difficult. The heavy sack he carried on his back didn't make it any easier, either, but as he glanced behind him at his foes, he was pleased to see that they were falling more and more behind. He could only guess that their armor was slowing them down as well.

Puss yelped as he came upon a wide, deep ditch, managing to leap over it just in time. Moments later, he abruptly stopped when he heard multiple shouts of surprise, followed by the clanging sound of armor. He looked back, noticing with amusement that the ditch had come up too quickly for the guards, and they didn't have enough time to act before they went tumbling in. Puss quickly turned and headed back in the direction he had come, jumping back over the ditch and easily avoiding the outstretched hands that tried to grab him as he flew over. He knew the men would find a way out soon, and so he wasted no time in getting back to the wagon, planning to free the fairy tale creatures and high tail it out of there.

The tabby hopped onto the back of the wagon and fumbled around with the keys, trying to figure out which one unlocked the doors. After the third key was successful in turning the lock, Puss threw open the doors, looking in at the multiple creatures who had been shackled and thrown inside. His eyes first came to rest upon three billy goats, each of various sizes, before then migrating to an elf couple, and then a fairy huddled in the corner.

"Who are you?" the female elf squeaked, staring admirably at the feline.

"Your salvation," Puss replied as he ran to unlock everyone's shackles. He first turned his attention to the three billy goats, unlocking each set of shackles that had been secured to their legs, which was a tedious task. He next freed the elves, and then finally the fairy. "All right, go! Hurry! They're coming back!"

Just as everyone had managed to make it out of the wagon, the three guards were returning to the scene, each of them scrambling to try and catch the freed prisoners. Puss whistled for his horse, who ran at full speed towards him. One of the guards caught sight of the cat and angrily raised his sword to deliver a killing blow, but the cat quickly swung himself onto Paco's back as he raced by, evading the attack just in the nick of time. The cat cackled madly and raised his hat above his head as he and his steed galloped away.

0ooooooo0

Puss's heart was still pounding with excitement as he and Paco slowly made their way along the trail, a fair distance placed between himself and where he had last seen the guards. The trees evened out, and they suddenly found themselves in a clearing, overlooking a vast expansion of meadows. In the distance, Puss could make out a very tall yet simple structure.

"That must be Farquaad's castle," he said with disdain. The urge to march into that castle and challenge the dictator was strong and hard to ignore, but he knew it would be a fatal mistake. Somehow he knew the tyrant would receive his just desserts some day, or so he hoped. It just wasn't going to be from him.

The feline cocked his head as he continued to stare at the ridiculously tall structure. "I don't know…do you think he's compensating for something?" he asked his horse, chuckling.

It was then that he began to critically think about the situation he was in. In just a few hours, he had found himself in multiple heated battles with armed guards, who he knew belonged to Farquaad, and considering all fairy tale creatures within Duloc were at risk of being arrested if discovered, he was certain that he would continue to fight off more authorities if he stayed here. "This is more trouble than it's worth," he sighed. "I think the farther we get away from Duloc, the better."

Puss looked around, trying to decide which direction was best to take.

"Let's head Northwest," he said, pulling the reins to the left. "I'll do the job for them," he snapped. If they wanted him out of Duloc that badly, then so be it, but he would leave on his own accord and no one else's.

The horse turned sharply and started heading Northwest, the large castle forgotten behind them. Puss knew that as soon as he crossed Duloc's border, he'd be out of harm's way.

That was just a theory, of course.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks to **hanny spoon **who was my 100th reviewer! :D

I have started a new set of stories called the "Alternate Puss Series" which features short stories about Puss in the alternate universe. Please check them out if anyone is interested.


	19. Gon and Koma

Chapter XIX:  
**Gon and Koma**

As Puss drifted further and further away from the Duloc border, it was getting to be late in the evening, and he was absolutely starved. He decided to stop for the night and set up camp. He removed Paco's saddle and bridle, trusting that the horse wouldn't wander off. He removed the sack he carried across his back, sighing at the relief he felt now that the extra weight was gone. While Paco busied himself with munching on the grass that surrounded the camp sight, Puss found a bare patch of ground, figuring it would be best for a campfire.

Puss gathered as many sticks as he could find, placing them all into a pile on the bare ground. After he had a decent amount of firewood, he next set out in search for something to start the fire. He first thought to use two sticks, but he found two stones hidden with the tall grass, both of which weren't so jagged. He sat down in front of the pile of wood, a stone in each paw. He tried countless times to hit the rocks together at the right angle, hitting the smoothest sides of the stones together. It took him several tries before he finally managed to produce enough sparks to ignite the wood.

"Finally," he sighed as he saw smoke begin to rise from the wood, accompanied by a light, crackling sound. When he heard his stomach give a loud growl, he knew it was time to find something to eat. He removed every article of clothing he wore, leaving only the strap across his chest, which housed his hunting knife. He wandered away from the camp, hoping he'd be able to find something large enough to satisfy him for the night. He knew something small like a mouse just wasn't going to cut it.

Puss crouched down into the grass and scouted for a decent meal. He kept his ears erect and sniffed the air for the scent of prey. It didn't take him long before he stumbled upon a rabbit several yards ahead of him. His eyes flashed with interest, knowing a fully grown rabbit would be more than enough. He would have to time his attack perfectly, while getting as close to the prey as possible without being detected. There was no room for errors here.

Puss slowly crept towards the unsuspecting rabbit, his body so low that his belly brushed against the ground. He got within just a few feet of the rabbit and stopped, knowing he couldn't get any closer without being seen. He bobbed his shoulders up and down before finally pouncing. The rabbit broke out into a sprint, a two foot gap being all that separated him from the cat. Puss let out a loud growl as he leapt into the air and tackled the rabbit. As the creature struggled and kicked, Puss quickly removed his knife from its sheathe and thrust it into the animal, instantly ending its life. He panted heavily as he stared down at the lifeless rabbit with remorse. It was a completely different experience having to go out and hunt for his own food. He knew he'd eventually become desensitized to it with each kill he made, but with this being his first kill, he wasn't sure if he'd even have the appetite to eat it.

With fishing, it had seemed different for some reason. This just seemed more brutal to him. He knew there really wasn't a difference, but impaling a small animal with a knife just registered differently with him than reeling in a fish, but he knew he had to let those feelings dissolve if he wanted to survive out here on his own. With a sigh, Puss tired to wipe as much blood from his knife as he could by running each side of the blade against the grass. Obviously, he'd need to find a stream or creek in order to clean it more thoroughly.

After sheathing the still bloody knife, Puss picked up the rabbit by the ears and made his way back to camp. The fire had taken on more life since he had made the kill, but it still wasn't large enough for his liking. The flames would need to get higher if he was to cook this rabbit.

Puss sat the rabbit down and retrieved several sticks that were suited to support the weight of the rabbit, making sure that two of them had a forked end to them. He placed the two sticks into the ground on both sides of the fire. He next gathered long, strong blades of grass that he could use as a replacement for rope in order to tie the rabbit to the stick. Once this task had been complete, he shifted his focus on trying to increase the size of the fire. He crouched down and gently blew into the fire, which caused the cinders to glow a bright orange. He poked at the fire with a stick, which seemed to excite the flames a bit. After a bit more blowing and poking and prodding with the stick, the flames had finally grown to an exceptional size. Puss nodded in satisfaction. "Bueno," he said.

With the fire taken care of, Puss turned his attention to skinning the rabbit, which took several minutes. He then tied the rabbit's legs to the stick and rested it on top of the forked sticks he had previously stuck in the ground, suspending the animal several inches from the flames. When the rabbit had finally been cooked to his liking, Puss didn't waste any time devouring it, ripping the roasted flesh from the bones with very little pause between bites. Clearly, his conscience had waved off the guilt he had felt just a half hour ago.

After satisfying his hunger, Puss spent a few minutes cleaning himself, mostly his paws and face. After doing this, he finally eased himself down onto his back, resting his paws on his now full stomach. By this time, darkness had enveloped the landscape. Being out in the open, surrounded by very few trees, Puss was given a clear view of the night sky. Thick, bluish gray clouds slowly rolled across the black sea of stars, slipping in front of the crescent moon and shielding it from view. Puss turned his head when he heard a noise off to his left. He saw Paco settle down onto the ground close by him, tired from the day's journey.

"Quite a day we've had, hmm?" Puss said to the horse. "If Mom knew what happened today, she probably would have had a heart attack." Puss focused his attention back to the sky, his eyes becoming heavy. As exciting as the day had been, he honestly hoped that tomorrow would be a bit simpler.

0ooooooo0

When Puss finally awoke the next morning, it was to the sound of loud snorting in his ear. He looked over his shoulder, finding two large nostrils flaring in his face. "Paco, go away," he groaned, closing his eyes. "A few more minutes, por favor."

Determined, the little horse nipped at Puss's ear. "Ow! Okay, okay! I'm up!" the feline snapped as he pushed the horse's snout away. He pushed himself into a sitting position, promptly stretching as he yawned. The sun had not completely ascended into the sky yet, and the ground was still moist with morning dew. Puss saw that the fire was still smoldering from the previous night, and he quickly kicked dirt over it to ensure that it was completely put out.

The feline started gathering his things, slipping into his boots and securing his cape around his shoulders. After the rest of his garb was in place, he started saddling his steed. The last thing he had to do was throw his sack over his shoulder, and the weight inside it certainly hadn't changed. Puss frowned as he lifted the bag up and down, wishing there was a way to reduce the weight. He chewed his bottom lip as he reached into the sack and pulled out the small bag of coins that his father had given him. He suddenly smirked as he kicked off one of his boots and dropped the little bag inside. He placed the boot back on his foot and then slung the sack around his shoulder, satisfied that the bag wasn't quite as heavy now.

"They certainly make for good storage," he commented as he glanced down at the boots. He climbed onto his horse and gave him a quick pat on the neck. "Okay, off we go," he said, urging the horse forward. They continued on in the direction they had originally been heading, no real destination.

The hours passed by, and their journey had been peaceful. No guards, no confrontations, nothing. Though Puss enjoyed the rush and excitement of a battle, it was nice to see the countryside and not have to worry about looking over his shoulder every five minutes, which he would have likely had to do had he stayed in Duloc.

Puss found himself heading more to the north, eventually finding a dirt trail again. He decided to stick to the trail for now, not sure where it'd lead him. They came upon a river, which stretched about twenty feet across. They stopped momentarily to drink, Puss remembering to clean his bloody knife, before continuing across the bridge, which arched over the river. They didn't travel far before coming upon a heavily wooded area, which Puss could tell right away belonged to someone. There was not a fallen tree or even a tree branch in sight, and the bushes were trimmed very nicely. He even discovered a charming little gazebo in the center of a small clearing. This looked like some sort of park, though Puss saw no sign of anyone, leading him to believe that the park was private.

"Maybe we should leave," he said suddenly. "If this is a private park, we probably aren't welcome here," he added as he started to steer the horse west, but he noticed in the clearing, a short distance from the gazebo, a large apple tree, illuminated by the sunlight. He looked around, making sure there was, indeed, no one there to see him before approaching the tree. The sight of the apples seemed to put a spring in the horse's step. "Hopefully they won't notice," Puss remarked as he stopped the horse underneath the tree, the branches brushing the feather of his hat. "We'll just take a few."

Paco had busied himself with snatching up the apples that had fallen from the tree, while Puss reached around to grab the burlap sack, removing his hat momentarily and placing it on the horn of the saddle so that it wasn't in the way of the low branches as he gathered the apples.

"Ay, stop moving," he hissed to the horse as he continued to gobble up the fallen apples. Looking up, Puss reached up a paw and plucked an apple from a branch. It wasn't quite red yet. Obviously, the reddest apples would be at the very top where they got ample sunlight, but Puss didn't feel like climbing all the way up there, and he knew Paco wasn't picky about the size or ripeness of the apples.

After tossing a third apple into the bag, Puss's eye caught sight of something on the ground, which upon closer inspection appeared to be a small whicker basket full of bright red apples. "Whose…?" he started, but his voice trailed off when he heard the sound of leaves and twigs rustling and breaking from above. As he turned his head to look upward, he felt something hard and heavy hit him on the head. "OW!" he shouted, hissing defensively. He squeezed his eyes shut as he reached a paw up to rub his head. He could hear more rustling within the tree, but he didn't bother to look up, not wanting to risk getting a black eye.

"I'm terribly sorry!" he heard a female voice shout in surprise. "Did I hit you?"

"No, I just like to randomly shout, "OW!" on occasions and rub my head in pain!" Puss snapped loudly. He heard something drop down from the tree, though his eyes were still shut as he allowed the pain to subside. When he finally did get around to opening his eyes to glare at the culprit of the apple bombing, his eyes became wide with wonder, as he hadn't expected to find himself staring down at a fellow feline. His mouth fell open as he took her in, awed by her well-groomed white fur and striking blue eyes. He found himself especially transfixed by the red, oriental dress that she wore, which seemed to add to her beauty. "B-But, you know, i-it's no problem, really. It was my fault," he blurted.

"Your fault? How is it your fault?"

"W-Well, I…I…don't know." Puss rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He hopped down from his horse, returning his hat to his head and approached the female. "Would you like some help carrying that?" he asked as he gestured to the basket of apples. The white cat glanced at the basket, and then back at the male, frowning.

"Why? Do I not look capable of carrying a basket of fruit?"

"No!" Puss replied quickly, waving his paws. "N-No! Not at all! I just thought…well…never mind," he mumbled. "So…may I ask your name?"

The female started to open her mouth, but before she could mutter a sound, she was interrupted as someone called out to her.

"KOMA!"

The female smirked. "Ah, there you go," she said. "He answered for me."

"KOMA!" the voice shouted again. 'Where are you?"

"I'm here!" Koma shouted back.

"Who is that?" Puss asked curiously.

"My mate."

"Oh," Puss replied with a bit of disappointment. "Your mate."

Within moments, a male cat rounded a large bush, eyes wide with worry. He did not wear exquisite clothing like the female, save for a double-wrapped belt and a set of wrist gauntlets, but he was certainly a handsome feline, and Puss could tell from the beautiful sheen his steely gray fur gave off that he was clearly well-cared for.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked as he approached the female, hardly noticing Puss. "It's not safe out here."

Koma rolled her eyes. "I am certain I can handle myself. The cooks needed apples."

"We have servants who can do that."

Cooks? Servants?

"You don't even have your weapons with you," the male pointed out with concern.

Weapons?

"It's best that you stay within the castle grounds."

Castle _what_? Who on Earth _were_ these cats?

"Umm…pardon me, I do not wish to interrupt but…may I ask who you are?"

The other male suddenly turned on the tabby, eying him suspiciously. "I think I should be the one asking you that question."

"He was picking apples and I accidentally dropped one on his head. That was how we met," said Koma, her tone much gentler.

The smoky-colored feline sneered. "So…he's a trespasser," he said as he began to advance on the tabby.

Koma shook her head. "He was only picking apples, Gon. He was not causing harm to anyone."

Gon looked the red feline up and down, green eyes narrowed. "What is your name?" he asked sternly. Puss removed his hat and bowed slightly.

"Puss In Boots, señor."

Gon's eyes widened and he took a step back. "Puss In Boots? You are _the _Puss In Boots?"

"Well…I wouldn't say 'the' as I am sure you are thinking of my third great grandfather. He's the one who started the legacy."

"Well, yes, but you _are _of the bloodline!" Gon placed his paws together and bowed respectfully. "I apologize for my rudeness! I had no idea who you were!" Gon looked up to meet the now startled Puss's gaze, beaming with admiration. "My mother used to recite the story to me every night when I was a kitten! It was such an inspiring tale!"

Koma stepped forward and placed a paw on the giddy Gon's shoulder. "Gon, will you please calm down? You're scaring him."

Gon chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry." He cleared his throat and folded his arms behind his back. "I would like it if you would join us for dinner."

Puss was surprised by the offer. "Oh, no, I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense," Gon replied, waving a paw. "I insist."

Puss's lips curled into a smile, the thought of someone preparing him a nice hot meal beginning to sound more and more pleasing, especially after his first hunting experience. "Well…all right," he said, swinging the burlap sack over his shoulder and grabbing his horse's reins. "As long as you're sure?"

"Of course."

Koma picked up her basket of apples and followed alongside her mate, Puss trailing closely behind. "So may I ask where we are? I'm afraid I don't have a map with me."

"This is Ellawood," Koma answered.

"Ellawood…Ellawood," Puss repeated, the name sounding familiar to him. "I believe I may have heard of that. Is there a kingdom there?"

"That is correct," Gon replied. Suddenly, Puss remembered Gon mentioning something about castle grounds earlier.

"Wait…you live in this kingdom? I mean…you're royalty?"

"Well, we live with royalty, yes," said Koma, smiling back at the tabby.

"So then, are you like their royal pets?"

Both Gon and Koma came to an abrupt halt, turning to glare at the feline. Puss took a step back, smiling nervously.

"We are not _pets_," Gon snapped. "We do not walk between our Lord and Lady's feet and beg for food, nor do we eat our food from a bowl on the floor. We eat _with _the king and queen at the dinner table while we discuss politics and other happenings. We also do not sleep on the floor; we have our own rooms. Granted, we both lived the lives of simple housecats before Koma and I met, but that has changed now. We are viewed as equals."

"Okay," said Puss, holding up a paw. "I meant no offense."

The three felines continued walking once the tension subsided. "We've been living with our Lord and Lady for over two years, along with our children," Koma chimed in.

"How many children do you have?"

"Three sons and a daughter, all about your age."

Puss couldn't suppress the tiny flare of interest he felt when he heard the words 'daughter' and 'your age' strung together in the same sentence, as well as the embarrassment he felt at having thought he had a chance with a female who was old enough to be his mother, but he quickly shunned his newfound excitement, reminding himself that he would only be here for a few hours and would be God knows where by tomorrow. It was foolish of him to even think about the possibility of a relationship.

The group eventually made it out of the park, the castle now in clear view about a hundred yards away. Puss could only see the top of the castle, as the rest of it was shielded from view behind a large, stone wall that extended high off the ground. He could make out several guards marching back and forth atop the wall, keeping a close eye out for anything that seemed suspicious. When they spotted the group of felines approaching the entrance, one of the guards made a hand gesture to someone on the ground, hidden on the other side of the wall, and within moments, the large double doors opened up in welcoming.

As the group approached the entrance into the castle grounds, two heavily armored guards stepped forward. "Is this an intruder?" one of them asked, eying Puss suspiciously as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Certainly not. He is an honored guest. Please take his horse back to the stable," Gon ordered. Puss handed the reins off to the guard, who guided the horse through the entrance and started off in the direction Puss assumed led to the stable. After the felines made their way into the castle grounds, the large double doors were promptly closed behind them. Puss glanced around as he followed Gon and Koma to the front of the castle, admiring the neatly trimmed bushes and the numerous flowerbeds that surrounded the castle front. As they ascended the stone steps that led to the front doors, Puss found himself intrigued by the two large lion statues that sat on either sides of the base of the steps.

Stepping into the castle was an experience extending far beyond anything Puss would have ever expected. Looking at the sleek marble floors and the large columns that flanked the spiral staircase made Puss feel incredibly unworthy. He didn't belong in this beautiful palace.

"Gon," a female voice greeted gently. "I see you found her."

"He believes I can't take care of myself," Koma replied irritably. Puss looked up at the woman, dressed in an exquisite lavender dress, which ghosted across the marble floor as she walked. Her dark hair flowed freely down her back and across her shoulders, framing her pale face. Upon closer inspection, Puss could see that the woman was with child, though the bulge of her stomach was small, indicating that she still had a few months to go before she was due.

"We have a guest joining us for dinner," said Gon, stepping to the side to give the woman clear view of the tabby. "This is Puss In Boots."

"Oh, from the stories?" the woman asked, smiling.

"A close relative, actually," Puss replied, taking off his hat to bow. "I hope you don't mind my company tonight."

"Of course not! It is a pleasure. My name is Lenora."

Koma turned to a female servant, who was standing close by the group in case her assistance was needed. "Would you care to fetch our children, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," the servant replied and quickly scurried off to fulfill the feline's request. Seconds later, the group heard the sound of footsteps echoing throughout the palace.

"Ah, there he is," said Lenora. Puss turned and saw a tall bearded man ascending the beautiful spiral staircase, head held high as he approached the woman and the trio of cats. "This is King Galen."

Puss bowed respectfully, feeling more and more out of his element.

"Is this a friend of yours?" the king asked, looking down at the tabby.

"We just met moments ago, actually," replied Koma as she handed her basket of apples off to a servant. "He is the kin of the famed Puss In Boots who defeated the shape shifter."

The king looked astonished. "Well then, he is certainly a welcome guest! What do we call you, little cat?"

"Just Puss is fine."

Moments later, the servant who had departed a short time ago reappeared, four cats following closely behind her, two white, a pointed, and one of a slightly more diluted gray than Gon. Koma smiled as she met the felines.

"These are our children. This is Hiraku," she said as she placed a paw on the lighter gray cat. "Katsu," she continued, touching the pointed male's shoulder, "Shin," -she touched the white, green-eyed male- "and Asuka," she finished, gesturing to the female, who was a fine resemblance of her mother, with the same white fur and striking blue eyes, though her facial structure and ears were a bit different. She also wore an oriental dress like her mother, only much different in design and color. The young female smiled slightly at the tabby before averting her eyes shyly. "This is Puss," Koma said to her young. "He's a guest, and he'll be honoring us with his company at dinner."

"Which should be ready very soon," Galen chimed in, "so why don't we scurry into the dining hall?"

The king secured an arm around his wife's shoulder as they made their way towards the dining hall, the group of cats following right behind them. Puss found himself walking closely beside Asuka, which was mostly the female's doing. She couldn't help but give the tabby quick glances out of the corner of her eye before quickly averting her gaze every time Puss tried to meet it. They entered the dining hall, the king taking one end of the table, and the queen the other. The felines found their chairs, which were designed with higher seats so that they could easily see over the table.

"May I take your things?" asked a servant to Puss, who seemed a bit reluctant to let his hat and bag be taken away, but he obliged. The servant simply placed them on the hooks that lined the wall of the dining hall. Puss felt a bit of relief at having the heavy bag removed from his shoulder. He looked to find a seat, noticing an empty one next to Asuka, who was offering a welcoming look, as though she wanted him to take the seat. He did not hesitate.

"We would have liked for you to meet our children as well," said the king as he pulled his chair closer to the table. "But they've been fed already and have been put to bed for a nap."

"How old are they?" asked Puss.

"Little Charlie just turned two, and our Susan is ten months," answered Lenora.

"So…you did not name your son after you?" Puss asked the king, who raised an eyebrow at this.

"Was I supposed to?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Well, I guess I just always thought kings named their sons after them."

"A lot of them do, but I just don't think that's very original. Plus, it must get a bit confusing."

Puss looked down at the dinnerware placed in front of him, his expression contorting into a look of horror. There were multiple spoons and forks, and he had no idea what purposes they served. Ever since kittenhood, Puss had always used one fork and one spoon, and even his fingers if the meal warranted them, but this just seemed crazy.

Just then, the doors leading into the kitchen burst open and several cooks emerged into the hall, carrying bowls and platters of different foods. The main dish was carried by the head chef and set directly in the center of the table.

"Have you ever had swordfish?" Koma asked Puss, who was staring at the already sliced fish with hungry eyes.

"No, I can't say I have," he replied as memories of the little bream and catfish pond he and his father fished at flashed across his mind. One of the cooks cut off a large slab of the fish and placed it on his plate. He looked down at the fish and then at the large collection of dinnerware, unsure what to use.

"A little confusing?" Asuka asked as she leaned over to the tabby.

"Just a bit," Puss laughed.

"This is the serving spoon," Asuka pointed out as she pointed at a small, more circular spoon. "Just use that to help yourself to the side dishes, and use this spoon to eat them. This is the fish knife, and that's the steak knife. This right here is the salad fork and this is your dinner fork."

Puss thought his head might explode. Asuka giggled and started setting aside most of the dinnerware. "Here, just stick with these," she said as she placed the dinner fork, fish knife, serving spoon and dinner spoon beside each other. Puss looked over and noticed that she had set aside almost all of her dinnerware, preferring a pair of chopsticks instead.

"So, where are you from?" Gon asked Puss as Hiraku handed him the bread basket to take his share.

"I live along the edge of Duloc."

"I've heard Duloc has become a not-so-peaceful place to live recently," Koma interjected.

"You'd be correct," Puss replied with scorn. He suddenly caught Shin's eye and saw him make odd hand gestures at him. "What?" he asked, furrowing his brows at the feline. Shin frowned and glared at Asuka.

"Oh!" Asuka exclaimed, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry. He's asking where you are heading on your journey."

Puss still looked confused.

"It's sign language," Katsu chimed in. "Shin was born deaf. It's how he communicates."

"Oh," replied Puss, understanding completely now. "Well, I really don't have a destination as of right now," Puss began, pausing to give Asuka time to sign for her brother. "I'm sort of hoping to find a place where money might be within my reach."

Shin nodded, reaching for his goblet.

"Why is it money you're seeking?" asked Lenora. Puss shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I…I really don't want to discuss it. It's a bit personal," he answered.

"Well, if it's money you're looking for, then your best option would probably be Far Far Away," said Koma.

"Far Far Away?"

"Yes, I'm sure you've heard of it. It's the most prominent kingdom in the entire country. They have a thriving economy and it's where most iconic fairy tale figures take up residence, such as Cinderella, Rapunzel, and of course, the king and queen themselves."

"Hmm…well, I wouldn't know where it is. Do you have a map?"

"Of course. Just know that it's not called Far Far Away for nothing."

"Well then, I guess the sooner I leave, the better."

"Why rush?" asked Galen. "It's getting to be pretty late in the evening. Don't you think it would be fitting if you just spent the night?"

"Oh no, no, I couldn't do that."

"Oh, good Heavens, I'm sure we can make room for you," added Lenora, smiling sweetly.

"I don't know."

"It's no trouble," said Gon. "You can leave first thing in the morning when you're rested and have had a decent breakfast."

"Well…I suppose, if you're sure."

"Of course," Gon chirped. Puss nodded and continued with his meal, figuring it was for the best, anyway, as Paco had to be tired and needed to rest as well.

"So…how did you and Koma meet?" Puss asked, looking across the table at Gon.

"Well, as I said before, we were living the lives of ordinary housecats before our first meeting. One night we met under a cherry tree, and we just couldn't stop thinking about each other. We saw each other almost every night and were determined to be together."

"Unfortunately, our masters made it difficult," Koma jumped in. "We loved them dearly, and they loved us too much to sell either one of us to the other so that we could be together. I don't think they really understood. But that wasn't going to stop us. One night we eloped, never once looking back. We had a bit of bad luck when we ran into a large dog. We were separated from each other when one of Lenora's servants found Gon and took him to her. I had fled up a tree and was too terrified to come down, but as you can clearly see, we were reunited again, and have lived here ever since."

"Do you miss your masters at all?"

Gon sighed. "Yes, of course, but I truly believe our lives turned out for the better. What about you? Did you ever have a master?"

"No, no one in my family has had a master since my third great grandfather."

"Truly?"

"Si. We do not have human masters, but we live just as humans do. My father even worked as humans do, employed _by _a human."

"You mean an actual paying job?" asked Hiraku. Puss nodded.

"I don't believe I've ever heard of that," said Gon, looking intrigued. "Animals are usually forced into work if they cannot speak for themselves, and those that can are typically shunned, not being viewed as equals."

"James never held that attitude. If he saw someone who had the skill to get the job done, then he would gladly give them work."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Puss kept silent for a while, focusing his attention on the meal in front of him. Even after he was full, he forced himself to continue piling food into his mouth, as it was just too delicious to stop. After dinner was complete, Puss was led up the spiral staircase to the second level of the four level castle, where the sleeping quarters were located. Gon showed Puss to an empty room, a room that was larger than his entire cottage.

Puss made his way into the large room and set aside his things, kicking off his boots. The bed was enormous, far more than he need. _I guess I'll have to suffer _he thought with a grin, hopping onto the bed. Even though it wasn't quite dark yet, he figured he would turn in, anyway. The bed was just too comfortable to resist.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Before anyone continues reading this story, I recommend everyone read the fairy tale "The Cat's Elopement" as that is the story where Gon and Koma and her children are based. Some of you may have actually read the story, but I'm guessing most probably haven't, as it's not a well-known fairy tale. But I didn't want people to think Gon and Koma were my characters. However, the Gon and Koma as they are written in this story are a bit more evolved than their fairy tale counterparts, and you'll see how in future chapters. For those interested in reading the fairy tale:

http: / / storynory. com/ 2005/ 12/28/the-cats-elopement/

Please remember to remove the spaces.

Thank you for 4,000+ hits! And thanks for all the reviews! I was rather stunned to receive 13 reviews for chapter 18 :D That's the most I've ever received for this story.

Oh, and on a somewhat unrelated note, the Puss In Boots spin-off now has an official website: http: / / www .pussinbootsthemovie. com/

Please remember to remove the spaces.


	20. Weapons, Waltzes and Wars

Chapter XX:  
**Weapons, Waltzes and Wars**

It took Puss a moment to remember where he was when he awoke the next morning. The room was bathed in very subtle light, indicating that the day was still in its early hours. Puss argued with himself on whether or not he should get up. The soft sheets and thick blanket were almost impossible to fight. He had never slept in a bed quite that comfortable.

Finally, the tabby willed himself to get up, hopping down from the bed and landing on all fours. He stretched out his hind and front legs before standing up straight. He made his way around the bed and headed towards the French doors that led out onto a balcony. Hopping up onto the concrete rail, Puss settled down on his stomach, his tail curling and uncurling as he relaxed. His ears shot up when he heard an odd sound close by. Walking to the far left end of the rail, Puss peered down to the ground below. There, in the courtyard, he caught sight of Asuka, who appeared to be armed with a bow. He noticed a target set up about thirty feet away, and she appeared to be trying her best to hit it, but from what he could see, not a single arrow was lodged in the target, and her frustration was very audible.

Puss jumped down from the rail and went back inside to dress himself, deciding to make his way down to the courtyard where the young female practiced, ignoring the voice in his head that told him he shouldn't be wasting his time getting to know her. After making his way downstairs and pointed in the right direction by a servant, Puss found himself outside in the breezeway that looked out into the courtyard. He walked over to the left end where he saw a long set of stairs lead down into the yard and quietly started making his way down, Asuka too focused on what she was doing to hear him approach.

"Buenos dias!" Puss greeted cheerfully. Before he could blink, Asuka rounded on him, grabbing an arrow from the quiver on her back and taking aim at the tabby. "HOLY-" he shouted as he leapt behind a bush for cover. Asuka's eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh no, I'm sorry!" she said, lowering her weapon. "You surprised me."

Puss poked his head over the bush. "_You _were surprised?" he retorted, making his way out from behind the bush. "I'm just amazed I didn't pee all over myself."

Asuka lowered her head in embarrassment. "Sorry," she repeated, placing the arrow back into the quiver.

"So…you're interested in archery?"

Asuka looked down at the bow in her paw. "Well, it's my preferred weapon, yes. My brothers and I have been learning Martial Arts skills and mastering our skills with a weapon for the past five months. Our mother and father have been adamant about it."

"Shouldn't they be out here helping you, then?"

"Well, they help, yes, but they also prefer that we practice on our own, without their guidance. If I have no one here to train me, I have only myself to rely on, which means if I mess up, then the only person I have to blame is myself. You'd be surprised how well it helps."

"Hmm…my father never tried that strategy with me." Puss chuckled. "He probably should have."

Asuka looked back at the untouched target. "Unfortunately, I can't for the life of me hit that stupid target. Sometimes it's difficult just shooting the arrow."

"Well, it looks like you managed to shoot one of them," Puss replied as he pointed to an arrow lodged in a cherry tree.

"I know, but the tree wasn't my target."

"Well, at least you hit _something_," said Puss, trying to give the female reassurance. She frowned.

"Well, let's say this was a real scenario. Pretend the target is an armed crook, and all these trees are innocent bystanders. Instead of hitting the crook, I've hit an innocent civilian."

Puss' ears lowered in embarrassment. "Well…that would…suck," he replied.

"Indeed. That's why I have a target. It's not enough just to be able to shoot the arrow, I have to know what I'm aiming at. If I were to ever use these skills in battle, there is no room for error. I need to be able to nail my target."

"All right, all right. I'm sorry I even said anything. Why don't you give it another try?"

Asuka sighed as she pulled an arrow from the container and took aim at the target. Puss studied her form momentarily and then told her to hold her position. Asuka blinked as he approached her and placed a paw to her elbow. "Try lowering your arm a little to where it's level and in alignment with the arrow."

"You've practiced archery?"

"Not a bit. I'm just taking a guess."

Asuka regarded the tabby with skepticism but didn't argue. She was willing to try anything, even if the person giving advice didn't know what the hell he was talking about. She focused her gaze on the target, paused, and then released her hold on the arrow's end. The arrow sliced through the air with rapid speed and lodged itself onto the outer edge of the target. Asuka stared, mouth agape. She whirled around to face the tabby.

"It was just a guess, I swear."

"Well, that was a pretty lucky guess."

"One thing that weapons all have in common is form. If your form isn't correct, then the weapon is useless. Even though I've never picked up a bow in my entire life, I just figured your form might have been a little off."

Puss noticed a bit of agitation in Asuka's expression. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to help."

"No, it's fine," Asuka grumbled. "I just think it's a little frustrating that I've been practicing for the last month and have yet to hit the target, and then someone who's never touched a bow in his life tells me to lower my arm and then I manage to finally land a hit."

"Well…if it helps, you still didn't hit the bullseye. I'll leave that to you."

Asuka smiled. "I think I've practiced enough for one morning." She walked over to the target and gently placed her weapon on the ground, planning to return later and resume her practicing. Straightening up, she placed her paws on her hips. "Would you like a tour?"

"I think I should really get going."

"Oh, come on. You've got all day. I can show you around the castle grounds first. Breakfast should be ready by the time we're done, and then afterward I can show you the castle. You'll be out of here in two hours tops, I promise."

Puss accepted, deciding there really was no point in rushing. Asuka nodded for Puss to follow, leading him through the courtyard, which was flanked with rows of cherry trees, fully in bloom. There was a large fountain in the center of the yard, glistening water cascading down from the pump, down into the multiple basins, and then finally the large circular pool below. They next made their way over to a small arched bridged that overlooked a koi pond, which Puss took fascination with, having never seen fish so colorful before.

"Don't eat them," Asuka joked. "They're like pets to my father."

Puss' eyes left the fish and sought out the rest of his surroundings. "What is that?" he asked, pointing up at a large, red, wooden structure a few feet away, which marked the entryway into a heavily flowered garden.

"Oh, that's a torii. You'll usually find them at the entrance to a temple. It typically means you're crossing into a sacred place."

Puss crossed the bridge and made his way over to the large structure. He stepped into the little garden, suddenly finding himself surrounded by a swarm of butterflies as they became startled by his presence. His prey drive activated, he swatted madly at the insects.

"This entire courtyard was redone to reflect my family's culture."

"I would imagine this would be an ideal place for meditation," Puss commented, trying to clap his paws around a butterfly.

"It is, actually. This is typically where you'll find me. I hardly ever stay inside the castle."

"I can imagine," Puss replied, stepping out of the garden and lifting his head up to take a second look at the torii, running a paw along its surface. The two felines finally made their way over to the fountain, each taking a seat along the edge of the pool. Puss' attention eventually found the large stone wall that surrounded them, occupied by guards, who marched across its top, crossbows at the ready. "I can tell you take safety quite seriously," he said, marveling at the wall's height. "I'd say that wall's tall enough to keep even giants out," he added with a chuckle. Asuka shifted in slight discomfort.

"Has anyone ever tried to-" Puss yelped when he felt cold water splash across his back. He hissed and threw himself off the wall, turning sharply to face the female, who he noticed was smiling mischievously at him, shaking her wet paw. "Don't start something you can't win," the male said coolly.

"You're all talk," the female teased. Eyes narrowed, Puss charged forward, hoping to push the female into the pool, but his target was quick to dodge his attack, hopping down from the wall in a blue and white blur. Laughing, she ran back towards the castle, tossing a few playful taunts over her shoulder.

"I think you'd like this one, Mamá," Puss said to himself with a soft smile, making his way back to the castle.

0ooooooo0

When they had finished their breakfast, both Asuka and Puss excused themselves to continue with the tour. Asuka first showed Puss the library, located on the first floor, before then leading him upstairs to show him a room she had a feeling he would find quite fascinating. She led him through a narrow hallway that led out into an elongated room on the west side of the castle, which extended across almost the full width of the castle, lined with large windows. She opened a door at one end of the room and asked him to follow her. The two felines ascended a set of spiral stairs, which led into a tower.

"We have another tower at the other end," said Asuka as she and Puss stepped out of the tower and into another elongated hall, lined with windows, much like the one on the lower level. "Usually, there are guards that occupy them at night. They get a good view of what's going on from up here."

The two walked a short distance and turned right, down a long hallway, which were decorated with large portraits. Puss was met with the familiar sight of the sleeping quarters at the other end.

"Couldn't we have just taken the spiral staircase? Why'd we go up through the tower?"

"Well, you've already been up those stairs. It's just part of the tour."

Puss shook his head, chuckling. He followed Asuka up another set of stairs that led to the third level. There were actually more sleeping quarters on the third level, but the room Asuka wished to show Puss was not a bedroom.

"Wow," the tabby said in astonishment as he stepped into a room which housed dozens of weapons, all of different types and designs.

"As you can see, this is the weapon room."

"Clearly," Puss replied as he slowly ventured into the room, craning his neck in every direction to take in each and every weapon. Many were displayed on the walls, while some were laid out across tables, some housed in velvet lined cases, and others displayed on stands. "Do you know how to use all these weapons?"

Asuka laughed. "No, not all of them. Just a few. Each one of us has a personal weapon that we are partial to." The female approached one of the tables, having to move a stool in front of it in order to actually reach the surface. "These are my father's," she said as she reached over and took a set of knives that Puss had never before seen. Asuka stepped down and carefully handed them off to him to observe. Puss held a knife in each paw, staring in wonder at their unique design.

"What are these?"

"Sais."

Puss tried to twirl one of the triton-styled weapons in his paw, but he ended up losing his grip on it, and it fell to the floor with a loud clang. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly, picking it back up.

"It's fine," Asuka giggled. "They're pretty durable."

Asuka took the weapons and went to place them back in their case. "What else is up there?" asked Puss.

"Well, there's these," Asuka replied as she held up a pair of nunchucks. She handed them off to Puss, who stretched the weapon out until the chain resisted.

"Do any of your brothers use this weapon?"

"Well, Katsu knows how to use it pretty well, but it's not his preferred weapon; he likes the katana."

Puss tried to swing the weapon around his head, but he ended up smacking himself against the back of the skull. Asuka hid her mouth behind her paw as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"All right, you know what…" Puss began as he stepped onto the stool and placed the weapon back on the table. "I'm just going to look and not touch, otherwise I might break something…or break myself," he added as he rubbed his head.

"That always happens when you don't know how to use them."

"I noticed," the male snapped, his head still throbbing.

The two felines exited the room and made their way down the hall to the stairs that led back down to the second level.

"So…you said your brothers were learning to fight, too…but what about Shin? Can he…I mean…is he able to…?"

"No," Asuka answered. "It's not like he can't learn. He's at a disadvantage, yes, but he could still learn, and Mother and Father even tried to teach him, but the main reason he doesn't fight is because he doesn't want to."

"Why?"

"Shin is against violence. He's a very gentle spirit."

"Does he extend that philosophy when it comes to eating meat?" Puss asked jokingly.

"Well, no, of course not, but I'm sure that if he was an omnivorous species, he probably would. He just can't stand the idea of war. It's certainly not a negative ideology, but I don't think it's a realistic one. He did a lot of studying on Buddhism, and he sort of adopted their philosophies. Mother and Father have tried to convince him otherwise, but he's made his position clear. There's nothing more we can say on the matter."

"Hmmm…" Puss mumbled, unsure of a more articulated response.

"But he has talents in other fields," the female continued, nodding to a large painting on the right wall. Puss stopped abruptly, craning his neck to take in the artwork. He found himself looking at a very detailed depiction of a serpentine-like dragon, its body partly enveloped by raging waves against a grayish, ominous sky.

"He…_painted _that?"

Asuka nodded.

"How long did that take?"

"A few weeks."

"Just weeks? Not years?"

Asuka chuckled. "Well, he has a lot more free time than we do. Hiraku seems to think it's a useless talent."

Puss grinned. "Let me guess, he's the obnoxious one of your siblings?"

"I guess you could say that. Do you have any brothers?"

"Yes, two."

The two cats continued down the hall, and then down the stairs. "So this Puss In Boots thing…it's a tradition, I'm guessing?"

"Yes."

"Was it something you wanted to do?"

"Of course. It's all I ever wanted to do ever since I was a child, but my mother would have preferred me to be a family man. And apparently if I don't give her grandchildren, she'll 'pimp me out' to someone, and those are her words, not mine."

Asuka laughed loudly, and Puss smiled, gradually beginning to relax the longer he was in the female's presence. With very little experience with females riding on his shoulders, he had been extremely nervous around Asuka from the moment he met her, and making a fool of himself in the weapon room just moments ago didn't exactly help the situation.

Puss had been so caught up with his discussions with Asuka that it took him a few moments to realize they were now on the first level again. He didn't even remember descending the spiral staircase.

"What's that room right there?" Puss asked as he came to a stop in front of two large, wooden doors, which Asuka had simply strolled right past without a glance.

"Oh…it's nothing. It's just an empty room. We've never used it for anything," she answered, her tone a bit unconvincing, but Puss simply shrugged and continued walking. Asuka led him into a large, luxurious room, accommodated by a fireplace and a beautiful chandelier, the largest he had ever seen, hanging from the center of the ceiling. There was a very limited amount of furniture in the room, and a grand piano sat in the corner.

"This is the ballroom."

"Wow," the male exclaimed, turning counterclockwise. He noticed his voice echo off the walls and grinned. "Wow!" he repeated, more loudly. He glanced at the female out of the corner of his eye and chuckled. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Everybody likes to do that." Asuka took a quick glance around the large room, seeming a bit disheartened. "This room is hardly used. It's been months since we last had a ball."

"Why is that?"

The female seemed to struggle with her words. "Well…people just have busy lives, I suppose." Again, her answer seemed unconvincing. She was quick to change the subject. "Do you know how to dance?"

The room echoed with an animated laugh. "Dance? I'm afraid that is a skill that was never on my To Do list, señorita."

Asuka's blue eyes twinkled. "Well, then, I suppose it's time you learned. I'm assuming you are from Spain?"

"It is my ancestral country, yes."

"Well, isn't dancing a big part of the Spanish culture?"

Puss grinned, waving a paw and shaking his head. "Just because I am Spanish, does not automatically mean I am a born dancer, just as the fact that you are Japanese doesn't automatically mean you like sushi."

"Well, actually I do like-"

"Shut up."

The female giggled. "I can teach you. It's really not difficult."

"I'd rather not," Puss protested, avoiding eye contact with Asuka. He knew his male pride was rearing its ugly head.

"Why not? Scared to have a girl teach you anything?"

"Not so much that as just making a fool of myself in front of one."

"Well, you'll just have to suck it up. You helped me hit my target, so I think it only fair that I even the score by teaching you how to dance. Mimi?" Asuka addressed a young female servant, who had followed the felines into the room. Puss turned sharply, surprised by her presence. He never even saw her come in. "You know how to play the piano, correct?"

"Yes, Madam."

"Would you mind?" Asuka asked, nodding towards the grand piano. The servant nodded and made her way over to the large instrument.

"What would you like me to play?" she asked.

"Anything that has the proper rhythm for a waltz."

Mimi nodded and began flipping through the already open book in front of her for a proper score. Asuka held out her paw to the male and he took it with apprehension, fearing humiliation was waiting for him. "Okay," the female began, taking Puss' free paw and guiding it to her hip. "Put this paw here," she said, smiling up at the tabby. "Would you relax?" she said through a soft chuckle. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"Sorry," Puss sighed, forcing a smile. He took a deep breath and tried to will away his tension, but it came right back the moment he felt Asuka place her paw gently on his shoulder.

"Trust me, you'll learn this in no time. If you are skilled with a sword, then this will be cake for you."

"How is that?"

"Well, both take precision and grace. If you can master one, you can master the other."

"I think sword fighting is just a bit more complex."

"Which means this should be very easy, don't you think?"

"I hope."

Mimi began to play, filling the quiet room with gentle music and setting the proper mood. "Just do what I do," Asuka instructed as she began to move, Puss following her steps. "One, two, three. One, two, three," she repeated, taking it slow at first. Puss kept his eyes on her feet, as well as his own, being careful not to step on them. As he gradually became more confident with himself, he eventually lifted his gaze to meet Asuka's. "See? It's not so difficult."

"Don't jinx it," Puss teased. He tried his luck at twirling the female, taking a step back and making a move to spin her, which Asuka quickly acknowledged. She spun with grace, bringing herself back into Puss' gentle grasp, with her paw on his shoulder. Puss suddenly slipped his paw from her hip to behind her back, forcing her back to where he was dipping her.

"I think you're getting a little _too _into this," Asuka remarked, smirking up at the male. "Are we waltzing, or doing the tango?"

Returning the smirk, Puss pulled the female back up swiftly, taking the lead. "I'm mixing things up a bit," he replied. Asuka could only be glad that there were no loose roses in the room for the male to shove between his teeth.

The two felines moved in perfect synch with each other across the ballroom, the music flowing with their movements. Puss continued to take his chances with his skills, spinning the female almost every six steps and even picking her up and spinning her, which she had not been expecting. There was no room for doubt that he was a natural. He moved without fear of error, Asuka finding it difficult to keep up. "I think I've created a monster," she joked, earning a hardy laugh from the male. To close out the dance, Puss spun Asuka one final time, this time spinning her outward, as far as their still clasped paws would allow without them breaking, and then spinning her back into his embrace, their noses mere inches apart.

"Having fun?" a voice interrupted. The pair pulled apart from each other, looking into the doorway to find Gon.

"Oh…señor…we were just…she was teaching me was all."

The smoky-colored feline found himself smiling. "Teaching? You didn't look like you needed an instructor to me."

"Well, he is a fast learner," Asuka replied. Puss coughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I should really get my things together," he said, starting to exit the room. "I really need to head out."

Once the tabby was out of earshot, Gon turned a firm gaze to his daughter. "You should know better than to let yourself get attached," he said to her sternly.

"Attached? I hardly know him, Father."

"Yes, but I can tell you take an interest in him."

Asuka shrugged, pretending to find fascination with a painting on the wall. "Well, of course. How often do we have guests here? It's been forever since anyone has graced us with their company."

"You know why that is, Asuka, and that is precisely why it is best that he leaves now."

The female turned and scowled at her father. "You are the one who invited him here."

"I know that," Gon conceded with a sigh. "I really wasn't thinking. I was a bit too caught up in my excitement." Gon shrugged. "But he is leaving now and getting on with his life, and we shall do the same."

"We've never had a life, Father, and you know it," Asuka snapped bitterly, brushing past her father and out of the ballroom.

0ooooooo0

Puss made sure the burlap sack was pulled closed tightly, and then grabbed his sword, slipping the thin blade into the tiny slot. He sighed, a bit disappointed that he was leaving. He didn't really have the chance to get to know the rest of the family, but he knew from the beginning that he wouldn't be staying. It was best that he got moving, anyway.

"Do you need help with anything?" he heard Asuka's voice ask from the doorway. He straightened himself up and turned to face the female.

"Oh…no, I'm fine. I'm traveling pretty light."

Asuka nodded silently, making her way into the room. Her gaze traveled towards the open French doors that led out onto the balcony, eyes narrowing as she studied the sky. "The weather looks like it might turn bad," she said, making her way across the room and out onto the balcony.

"What?" Puss asked, following her out. He followed Asuka's gaze, noticing the large, fluffy clouds in the distance, which appeared a bit gray in coloring. "Oh, I do not think it's something I should worry about. I don't even think it's heading this way."

"But you never know," Asuka protested, turning to the male. "Weather is pretty unpredictable. A storm can be right on top of you in a matter of minutes."

"Well…what do you suggest I do?"

The female shrugged. "Well…I just think it might be best if you hold off for a while and see what the weather does."

"But if a storm were to approach, it might not be until late in the evening."

"Then you could stay an extra night," Asuka suggested, smiling. Puss wanted to protest, but he was unable to will any words of disagreement from his tongue. He knew it would be a mistake to stay, especially considering that the longer he stayed, the longer he'd want to _continue _to stay.

"Don't you think you should ask your family before we make plans for me to stay longer?" he asked, once again ignoring the nagging voice that told him he needed to leave.

Asuka seemed put off by the suggestion but knew he was right. "Yes," she replied a bit irritably, nodding for Puss to follow her downstairs. When they found Gon, he was accompanied by Galen in the long windowed hallway on the west side of the castle, which the two felines had just been in a short while ago. Both the king and cat were sitting comfortably in cushioned chairs, talking amongst each other, with two cups of tea resting on small china plates atop the small table nestled between their chairs.

"Hello there," Galen said cheerfully, looking past Gon, who quickly snapped his head around to look down at the two cats.

"Father, I don't think he can leave," said Asuka, promptly getting to the point without a lick of hesitation.

Gon furrowed his brows. "Why is that?"

"Well, look at the sky," the female replied, nodding towards the long row of windows that provided a wide view of the outside. Gon stared briefly at the partly cloudy sky, shaking his head and shrugging.

"I'm afraid I don't see a problem."

"Those clouds are an indication of an approaching storm."

Gon narrowed his eyes with suspicion at his daughter. "Asuka, even if a storm were approaching, it is hours away, and second of all, it looks like the storm is heading South. Puss is heading East."

"A storm can change course very quickly, though."

"We can't keep him here based on what the weather _might _do. He's got about a three day journey ahead of him, in which time weather can do all sorts of things. There could very easily be a storm approaching from the East that we aren't even aware of that he may likely run into."

"But if he _can _avoid it, don't you think he should?"

Becoming frustrated, Gon hopped down from his chair and took Asuka's wrist, leading her off to the side and leaving Puss to stand awkwardly alone. He could hear them speaking quietly to each other, but he realized they were speaking in Japanese, and so he had not a clue as to what they were saying. The tabby turned his attention to Galen, who simply shrugged, indicating that he didn't have a clue, either, but he seemed to have a knowing look in his eyes, as though he knew what it was they were discussing, even if he didn't understand every word they spoke. Something wasn't right.

Gon cleared his throat, approaching Puss. "If you wish to stay, then you are welcome to stay," he said, his politeness a bit forced, which only added to Puss' uneasiness.

"If it is a bother, I understand. If you had plans tonight then I can-"

"No, no plans. It's not a bother, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. I just don't want to hold you up, is all."

"Oh, well…you're not holding me up. I'm not in a rush. I promise, rain, sleet or hail, I'll leave first thing in the morning and be out of your fur forever."

Gon smiled and nodded, his tail giving a sudden whisk.

"And it is all right with you?" Puss asked the king.

"No problems here," he said, waving a hand. Puss smiled at the group, bowing his head slightly before turning to leave. Asuka started to follow after him, but Gon quickly grabbed her by the arm before she could make it past him.

"He leaves tomorrow."

0ooooooo0

Dead, fallen leaves rustled across the forest floor as the wind picked up. The tall, husky figure took in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the pre-storm air. He let his hand rest on the handle of the dagger strapped to his waist as he approached the gentle flowing river, seeking out the row of rocks that led across its width.

"Where are you wandering off to, Falk?" a low voice spoke.

"GAH!" the figure gasped, his foot slipping on the first stone and sliding into the icy water. He growled as he managed to keep himself from completely falling in. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." The figure hopped back onto solid ground, shaking the water from his leg. Night time had not yet approached, and so it was easy for Falk to make out the much smaller figure.

"Where are you going?" he repeated, his tone becoming irritated.

"Griffin Gorge," Falk replied. "It's mating season, so it's a good time to hunt. They're also most active at dusk."

"Griffins are also twice as fierce during mating season."

Falk shrugged, smirking confidently as he retrieved the crossbow from his back. "I don't think I'll have much problems with 'em."

The shorter figure sneered. "Not tonight. Report back to the camp right now. We've got a mission to attend to."

"Not again," Falk groaned, his shoulders slumping. "We just did this a month ago. When are we going to get serious about this?"

The figure gave a cold chuckle. "This has been a war long fought, but I assure you, it ends tomorrow."

Falk's eyes lit up, and he ran quickly to catch up with the shorter figure. "Seriously? This is it?"

"Yes. No more child's play. By this time tomorrow, things will start changing. This land will belong to us."

Falk suddenly leapt in his superior's path. "So I can start locking humans up?" he said wickedly, flashing a yellow smile. "And chasing them out of their homes?"

"And everything they've ever done to our kind," the figure responded, his lips turning into a smirk. Falk chuckled darkly, tapping his crossbow against his open palm. The two continued on back to the camp, led by the soft glow of a campfire in a small clearing. Falk quickly took a seat on a large log with the rest of his comrades, who were now looking up at their leader with eagerness.

"When are we doing this already?" one of them shouted, slamming his fist down against his knee.

"Patience, Trutan. Victory is within hours."

"I say we kill them all but keep the king alive as our slave," came a second voice. There were loud cheers of agreement that followed the suggestion.

"That's certainly an idea to consider," their leader spoke with intrigue.

"But are we going to be the ones doing all the grunt work while you stand by and barely lift a finger?" a third voice asked with a great deal of agitation. He turned around to look up at his leader, who was glaring down at him with disdain. His ears lowered as he realized his mistake. Before he could blink, he found himself gasping for air when he felt his leader's hand grasp his throat tightly, his strength surprising for a figure so much smaller than his victim's.

"You're brave, Kron, but you put it to foolish use. Just remember that if you did not have me there, you would all easily perish in the first barrage of arrows." With a sneer, the much shorter figure released Kron, throwing him back onto the ground. He coughed and gasped as he staggered back to his seat. "Now then…you're all free to take out whoever you wish, but Gon's blood will be on _my _sword."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Wow. It's…been a while. Sorry the updates have slowed down so much. I wish I could say it'll never happen again but that would be a lie. These next few chapters are going to be the most climactic of the story, and so they may take a while to complete, especially since I still haven't figured out exactly how they're going to be written. I know what's going to happen, but getting it into words is tricky.

I posted a portrait of Gon to my deviantArt profile if anyone's interested. I'm working on more portraits as we speak.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And a big thanks to **Ashleigh Piccinino **for all of your reviews as well! You made a comment in your review to chapter 5 that you thought I supported corporal punishment, and the answer is no, I don't. And to answer your question in your review to chapter 13, it means "I will return." Also…lol sorry, but I'm not going to read two whole books just to copy the methods of how a character trains someone. Not saying Emilio's methods are great, because they're probably not, but…meh, I'm no expert when it comes to training people lol. And finally…may I ask why you keep spelling Emilio's name 'Imilio'? o.0


	21. Before the Storm

Chapter XXI:  
**Before the Storm**

Puss smiled when he saw his horse's snout peak over the stall door, the little horse too small for his head to actually see over. He hopped up onto the door easily and reached in a paw to stroke the horse's snout. "Are you doing all right in here?" he asked, receiving a snort in response.

"Puss?"

Puss turned toward the voice, finding Asuka standing below, looking up at him worriedly.

"Is everything all right? You sort of disappeared for a while."

Puss shrugged. "I was out walking around. Plus, I wanted to check on Paco."

The tabby hopped down, coming face to face with the female. "Listen…I think I should just go ahead and leave."

"But the weather really isn't looking too good now."

"It's just wind. I can manage."

"But the sky's getting darker."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, the sun _is _going down," Puss retorted playfully. Asuka rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but the clouds are still pretty dark."

"I'll take my chances."

"But it's going to be night time in a couple of hours."

"So? Cats see better in the dark, remember? Besides, I think your father would prefer it if I left."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't have to be oversensitive to sense he wasn't thrilled with the idea of me staying. He seemed pretty determined to get me to leave. And I think I know why."

Asuka's ears perked with interest. "Really? W-Why?"

"Well, isn't it obvious? Your father wasn't too happy when he saw us dancing together."

"Oh…No, I'm sure he wasn't bothered by that."

"Oh come on…you know how fathers are. They're very protective of their daughters, and understandably so. I'm still a stranger to him, and he doesn't want us getting too close."

"I assure you, that's not it."

"Then what, then?"

Asuka shrugged. "Well, like he said, he just didn't want to hold you up if you were keen on leaving today."

Puss shook his head, unconvinced.

"Listen, there's no sense in leaving now. You can leave in the morning. For real, this time," Asuka added with a smile, though there was clear disappointment. "Besides, dinner will be ready in a few minutes, and I'm sure you're hungry by now, right?"

"Well…"

"We're having turkey."

Puss' mouth immediately began to salivate.

0ooooooo0

A hawk strained against the intermittent gusts of wind that swept under its wings, knocking it slightly off course. Its golden eyes narrowed in determination as the castle came into view, though it was hard to see in its dark surroundings, but the lit torches that lined the castle wall gave away its location, as well as the heavy candle light seeping through the castle windows. The large torches made the presence of the guards known as they marched the wall, crossbows at the ready. The hawk gave a soft chuckle as it dipped forward and made its aim for the wall.

One of the guards marching the wall turned sharply as he heard the flapping of wings and the sound of talons making contact with the concrete of the wall. His eyes met the hawk's, which were currently staring back at him with such intensity that the man knew this hawk was not what it seemed. He shifted his eyes towards the pole that housed the large bell that was used to signal others of an approaching threat. He started to take a step towards it, slowly reaching out a hand to grab the rope.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the hawk spoke in a low voice. The voice made the armored man jump slightly. He shifted his hand back to the crossbow and took aim at the bird. "Ah, ah, ah…I wouldn't do that, either," it said.

The guard took in a deep breath, feeling beads of sweat begin to roll down his temples. His armor rattled as he began to tremble, though he tried to speak without fear. "I am warning you now. Leave this castle, or risk death."

The hawk's eyes twinkled with amusement. "That's real cute. But in all seriousness, I'm not here to fight you. For the moment, at least. Instead, I humbly request that you give your superiors this message." The hawk lifted one of its legs and opened its talons, releasing a very small, rolled up piece of paper. The guard's fearful eyes followed the paper as it fell onto the cold stone. "Have a pleasant evening," said the hawk as it spread its wings and took flight. The guard suddenly took a firm hold of his crossbow, cocking it upward and trying to get a good shot at the retreating hawk, but the creature disappeared into the dark before he could line a perfect shot.

The man turned sharply when he heard the sound of a fast approaching guard, indicated by the rattling of armor. "Fredrick!" he shouted. "I heard voices! Is someone trespassing?"

The guard known as Fredrick stared blankly at his comrade, his lips parting and closing repeatedly as he tried to speak. His gaze slowly shifted downward, finding the rolled up piece of paper laying in the spot where it fell moments ago. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached down to pick it up.

"What is it?" the second guard asked, taking a step forward. Fredrick slowly unrolled the paper, eyes raking over reach word with a look of dread. The other man shifted himself to where he was at Fredrick's right, giving himself a view of the message he held. He, too, took on a look of fear.

0ooooooo0

Puss gently pushed his plate aside after finishing up his dessert. He didn't think he would have been able to eat a single bite after the main course, but every last morsel that was offered to him was too tempting to ignore. He was going to miss all this delicious food.

"Was it to your liking?" Asuka asked, smiling as she noticed the tabby running a finger over the plate, gathering up the last bit of strawberry sauce that had been drizzled all over the dessert.

"It should be illegal for food to taste this good," he replied back, licking the sauce from his finger. He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I really shouldn't do that," he said. "I keep forgetting my manners here."

"Don't worry, we're not going to beat you over the head just because you lick your fingers. You think the rest of us don't do that?"

After everyone had had their fill of their dessert, the group remained at the table, engrossed in various discussions as they let their dinner settle. Puss could already tell that he would likely fall asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

The dining hall suddenly became silent as the doors burst open. A guard stepped into the room and approached the king at the head of the table, trying to keep his composure. "My Lord…" he began, his voice trembling. Galen stood up suddenly, quickly taking note of the man's concern. "I was asked to give you this."

Everyone was deathly silent as the guard handed off what looked to be a rolled up piece of paper, very small in size. Puss held the most curious of expressions, ears directed to the front and eyes on the king as he unrolled the paper. His eyes scanned the paper just once, and then quickly shifted worriedly to his wife, and then finally to Gon and Koma. It was Gon who leapt from his chair and hopped down onto the floor. "Give it to me," he said urgently, holding up his paw. Galen obeyed silently, handing the paper down to the cat.

"You didn't do anything?" the king asked the guard angrily, fear evident in his tone.

"He got away before I could even get a good shot."

Galen ran a hand through his hair, eyes falling to the floor. Puss turned when he heard Asuka leave her seat. She migrated to the other side of the table, eager to see this message that had been given to the family. Puss did the same, his curiosity now becoming unbearable.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking up from the king to Gon, hoping to get an answer from someone. Koma had joined Gon's side at this point, looking down over his shoulder at the paper he held in both paws.

"I want everyone on alert," Galen said to the guard. "I want guards in the watch towers and everyone patrolling the wall to be armed and ready for a potential attack."

"Yes, sir," the guard replied, placing a fist to his chest as he acknowledged the order. He left swiftly, leaving the family to digest their situation, while Puss was still left without answers.

"It's him, isn't it?" Hiraku asked, hopping down from his chair.

"_Who_?" Puss pressed, becoming frustrated that he was still in the dark as to what was going on. "What does it say?" he asked Gon as he tried to approach him in hopes of getting a look at the message, but the older feline quickly crumpled the paper in his paw, his green eyes shooting upward with an intense, warning gaze that stopped Puss in his tracks.

"Galen…" Lenora said meekly, slowly rising from her chair. Her face was growing paler by the second.

"All right…everyone migrate into the sitting room," the king ordered as calmly as he could manage. He took his wife's hand and started to lead her out of the room.

"I want the children with us right now!" Lenora said urgently on the way out.

"What's. _Happening_?" Puss tried again, his gaze shifting from Asuka to Gon, hoping one of them would provide him with an answer.

"I want you to leave," was all Gon said before he turned and followed after the king and queen. Only Asuka remained at that point.

"Tell me what's going on," Puss tried again desperately. "Who is threatening you?"

Asuka's gaze shifted, the female finding it difficult to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'm sorry I asked you to stay."

Puss simply shook his head, not understanding.

"Do as my father says and leave."

With that, she turned and followed after the fleeing group, leaving the tabby to stand alone, completely baffled. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere now," he mumbled to himself, marching out of the dining hall. He saw the last of the group making their way into the sitting room, guards standing on either side of the door. "I want answers," he asserted firmly as he marched into the room, forcing all eyes on him. Gon approached him with an angry stride, throwing out a fist and pressing it firmly to the tabby's chest. He pushed Puss out into the hall and against the wall.

"Leave. This does not concern you."

"I'm making it my concern," Puss snapped, eyes narrowing.

"I don't want this to resort to force, but I _will _have the guards escort you away if you do not leave right now."

Looking down at the paw that rested at Gon's side, he saw the crumpled piece of paper loosely grasped between his fingers. Shooting his paw out, Puss snatched the paper from his paw and stepped away from him. The message was so short that Puss was able to read it before the older feline could make any attempts to steal it back:

_It ends at dawn. Be ready._

That was all that was written, which didn't tell Puss much, but clearly there was unseen meat to the message that was only visible to the king and his family. "Who wrote this?" Puss asked, turning to Gon. "I want to know."

Gon snatched the note, balling it up and throwing it to the floor. "This is your last chance to leave freely."

Puss crossed his arms over his chest, showing no sign of faltering. Gon started to make the order for him to be removed, but Koma's voice interrupted him: "Gon…just tell him."

Gon turned, finding his wife standing in the doorway. He slowly turned back to the tabby, reluctant to reveal the issue but, nonetheless, nodded for him to follow him into the sitting room with the rest of the two families. Moments after they entered the room, a servant followed behind them, the king and queen's children within her grasp. Lenora quickly rushed over and took her daughter from the servant's arms, while reaching down and taking her son's hand. Both children looked rather agitated that they had been awoken so urgently.

"All right…now what is this about?" Puss tried again calmly.

"We…weren't entirely honest with you at dinner yesterday evening," Gon began.

"About what?"

"We told you about how Koma and I eloped, and that we had become separated after a dog attacked us."

"Si," Puss replied, nodding. He shot a questioning look to Koma, who had looked on at this point.

"Well…it wasn't a dog."

Puss snapped his head back in Gon's direction, his interest becoming heightened.

"We thought it was at the time, but we came to find out later that it was something entirely different."

"Well…_what?_"

"An ogre," Gon replied darkly.

"A shape shifter," Koma added for clarity. Puss certainly wasn't unfamiliar with the tales of shape shifters, but the story of his third great grandfather was the most recent account he had ever heard of one. It was the _only _account he had ever heard.

"His name is Erog. He has been trying to take control of this palace for the last two years, and we have been on high alert ever since. This was why I was a bit hostile when I first saw you. You can't trust anyone or anything that comes near here because he can take on any form he chooses."

"It's why we rarely have balls anymore or any sort of gala," Asuka added. "It would be a golden opportunity for him to invade the palace without suspicion, and we also run the risk of putting innocent people in danger if there were another attack."

"We've hardly had any sort of contact with our subjects," said Galen, his face solemn. "I can hardly perform my duties as king, as I run the risk of putting my family, as well as innocent people in danger. Our lives have basically been on lockdown. It's like we're cut off from the outside world."

"This was why I wanted you to leave earlier," said Gon. "I wasn't trying to be rude. I knew that the longer you stayed, the stronger the potential danger of you getting caught up in the middle of this war grew." Gon suddenly glanced at Asuka disapprovingly, who turned her gaze to the fireplace. "But…I also must take the blame. I shouldn't have invited you back here in the first place. Knowing who you were, I was just blinded by my own excitement to even think of the risk I was putting you in, but since it was just for one day, I didn't really think there was much harm in it."

Puss took a moment to digest what he had just heard. "Is he the only attacker?"

"Unfortunately, no," said Galen. "He has several cronies who have aided him in these attacks."

"How many?"

"He started out with about fifteen or so, but he has lost a good portion in previous battles," said Koma. "I'm sure he's gained more since then, though."

"All shape shifters?"

"No, Erog is the only one. The others are typical swamp and cave ogres. This is what throws us off. We don't understand why he would need aid to carry out these attacks. With his unique abilities, he could easily overpower us with very little effort, and yet he holds back, while his men carry out most of the attacks." Gon sighed. "We've used the time between attacks to train so we are better equipped to fend them off. They're really not skilled with a sword. They mostly use basic fighting instincts. Erog, on the other hand, knows how to skillfully wield a sword, and given his shape shifting abilities, it's a deadly mix."

Puss swallowed the lump in his throat. "So…he can take _any _form?"

"From the deadliest man eaters to the tiniest insect," said Katsu with a nod. "We can fend off his men, but it's _him _we're worried about. And from his message…we get the feeling he won't be holding back any longer."

Gon nodded in agreement. He glanced back at Puss, his emerald eyes seeming urgent, as well as a fearful, an emotion that hadn't left those eyes for the past twenty minutes. "I would leave now." It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order.

"What?"

"Leave, I say. Retrieve your horse from the stable and flee the castle grounds."

"I'm not going anywhere," the younger feline asserted. "It would seem you're in need of some assistance."

"What are you saying? That you want to fight?"

Asuka looked at the tabby in shock.

"Yes," Puss replied without a hint of hesitation.

"Are you insane?"

"Señor, when you get right down to it, we're all a little loco, but sometimes that can be a good thing."

Gon shook his head firmly. "No. There is a battle upon us. If you stay here, this night very well could be your last."

"This is what my father trained me for!"

"With all due respect to your father, I am certain he trained you with your skills in case danger was unwillingly thrust upon you, not for you to willing jump into the path of a sword."

Puss' tail twitched, but his determination remained unhinged. "I cannot leave," he asserted. "I can't possibly leave when there's even the slightest chance that my assistance may be the difference between winning or losing this war."

"No. I'm not putting your life at risk."

"You're not. I am my own dictator. My life is guided by myself and no one else. The only person putting my life at risk is myself, and I have no qualms about taking such a risk. You clearly need all the help you can get."

"It's not your battle," Gon repeated.

"Battles belong to no specific person, señor. If there is ever a person who has the fighting spirit, then every battle is theirs, if they choose to fight it…and I do."

Gon smiled lightly, though there was a great deal of concern still etched into his features. "So…you are prepared to lend your sword in battle, even if it means your death?"

Puss glanced around, taking in each face that stared back at him with looks of fear and concern, the face holding his attention the longest being Asuka's. "Yes," he finally answered, returning his gaze to Gon. "I wouldn't be worthy of wearing Pedro's boots if I weren't."

Gon's smile held as he nodded in acceptance, but it soon faded, the seriousness of their situation letting itself be known again. He slowly turned to his daughter.

"I suppose you were right, Asuka. It looks like we're in for a storm after all."

0ooooooo0

The group was silent as they waited for their leader to return, the only sound being that of the crackling fire. One of the ogres sighed, shifting his weight in the dirt, while another stared into the fire with growing doubt. They all turned when they heard the soft beat of wings, but they couldn't make out the source, though they didn't need to. They knew he had returned. He appeared within moments, stepping into the glow of the fire.

The being smiled, his face only slightly illuminated by the glow of the fire. "Who here is ready for a change?" he asked, his tone cold and sinister. The group gave loud cheers of excitement, knowing their battle was drawing nearer.

Erog's lips curled into a wicked grin as he approached the group. "I think it only wise to go over a few things," he began, "as some of you here are still fairly new and aren't quite familiar with our targets. "First and foremost, the king's family will undoubtedly be excluded from this fight. From what I've been able to gather, they will be relocated to their panic tower, the tallest, central tower of the castle. I'd imagine it will be heavily guarded from the inside. Frankly, I don't care which one of you takes them out. As far as I'm concerned, first come, first serve," he said nonchalantly, as though he were handing out slabs of beef.

"Now then…as for Gon's children, I can't be certain if they'll even be present in this fight. We can already eliminate the possibility of Shin fighting this battle. As you all know, he's completely deaf and never even acquired any sort of combat skills. He'll be an easy kill. As for the rest of the children, they are each partial to certain weapons, all unique and deadly in their own way. Hiraku prefers the katana, while Katsu is partial to the kusarigama, and then there's Asuka, who has taken up archery. You must fight under the assumption that they are skilled and poised for battle. Do not underestimate any of them.

"Gon himself prefers sais. Skilled as he is with them, they aren't necessarily the ideal weapons for a battle of this magnitude. Even still, that certainly doesn't mean they're harmless and certainly not in _his _hands, either. Gon's approach to a battle is not subtle. He always makes his presence known.

"Koma is the more agile of the two. She's like a spider; you won't know she's there until she drops right in front of you. Her weapon of choice is the shuriken knives. Again, not the obvious choice for most, as they are generally a secondary weapon, but she knows how to handle them. Her aim is spot on and swift. Take in every inch of your surroundings. She's the enemy you can't afford to let sneak up on you."

Erog's eyes scanned the group. "This shouldn't be news to most of you. Most of you have encountered our opponents many a time."

"What happens after we've wiped them out?" one ogre spoke up.

"This land will be ours, and then some."

0ooooooo0

Sleep was an impossibility. After an hour of tossing and turning within the lavish sheets, Puss had wandered out onto the balcony for some fresh air. He hopped up onto the rail gracefully, settling down with his front paws tucked under his chest. His tail hung over the side, the tip curling and uncurling. What had he gotten himself into? Maybe this _was _a mistake, but he certainly couldn't back out now.

After relaxing on the balcony for a short period, Puss suddenly found himself drawn to the soothing sound of the fountain below. Perhaps he needed to walk around the courtyard for a while, or even try meditating. Sleep was vital after all, and he would be of no use in a fight if he couldn't even hold his eyes open.

The tabby quietly made his way down to the lower level of the castle. Walking out into the courtyard, he noticed guard after guard marching along the wall, crossbows at the ready. It was still fairly windy outside, but thankfully, it wasn't raining, though he could make out flashes of lightening far off in the distance, though there was no thunder that followed it.

The feline hopped up onto the edge of the fountain, letting his hind legs drape over the side, while keeping his tail away from the water. He sighed as his anxiety escalated. He had let the thrill of battle cloud his judgment. Now that he had time to let it all sink in, he wasn't quite so excited anymore. What if he _was _living his final hours.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Calm the mind…

His worries slowly ebbed away, and Puss could feel himself succumbing to a feeling of peace and ease. In doing so, he quickly forgot his surroundings and lost all track of time.

"Are you worried?"

Puss jumped, his fur raising slightly. Asuka held up a paw and smiled. "Calm down. Looks like you had the same idea I did." The male cleared his throat and looked away. He wasn't sure how much time had passed. It had seemed like only seconds, but he was certain he had been sitting out here for close to ten minutes, if not longer.

"Worried? I should say not, little señorita. This is nothing new to me."

Asuka's blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "Just how many times have you engaged in battle?"

"What does it matter?" Puss snapped defensively, looking away. Asuka hopped up onto the fountain's edge to sit beside the tabby.

"Don't worry, I've _never _fought. You have less reason to be afraid." Troubled by his silence, Asuka asked, "Do you regret your decision?"

"Of course not," Puss asserted firmly, looking at the female with a critical gaze. "I'm proud and honored to fight."

"You don't have to, you know. You can sneak out right now, and I'll tell Father that I convinced you to leave."

"No. I have no intention of leaving. A true warrior does not flee."

The female paused for a moment before asking very softly, "Why?"

"It is the warrior's way, of course. You just don't turn away from a battle."

"No, I mean…why help? You barely know us. Why are we worth risking your life for?"

"Why _not?_" Puss challenged. "I don't see how knowing someone for a certain period of time qualifies that person's life as being worthy of defense."

"Well…people just don't normally lay their life on the line for a stranger."

"You can know someone all their life, señorita, and you may _still _know absolutely nothing about that person. We don't always know someone as well as we think we do."

Asuka frowned. "I suppose not, but I would certainly like to _try _to get to know you."

"There will be time for that after all this is settled."

"And if fate has something else in store?"

Puss scoffed. "I don't believe in fate. Fate proposes a lack of control in one's purpose or destiny, and if I do not control my destiny, then I might as well stop breathing."

0ooooooo0

Puss made his way back inside the now quiet castle. Asuka had returned indoors some time ago after their brief conversation, while Puss had remained by the fountain's edge for a few short minutes, the sound of the gushing fountain somewhat lulling. He never thought water could be such a comfort. His eyes fluttered from lack of sleep, and he figured he was in a better position to sleep than he had been minutes ago. He didn't know if just hearing Asuka speak softly to him had put his mind at ease, or if his need for sleep just simply overrode all possible fears and doubts. Either way, the thought of a pillow cradling his head seemed very appealing at the moment, and nothing, not even the looming battle, could put a stop to his much needed slumber.

The feline stopped abruptly when he noticed soft firelight seeping through the cracked library door. He made his way over to the door and poked his head inside, where he saw a wide-awake Gon hunched over an open book. Okay, so he _thought _nothing could put a stop to his much needed slumber.

Sighing, the tabby grabbed the door and pulled it open, cringing as it creaked loudly. This caused Gon's head to shoot up with a start.

"It's after midnight. You shouldn't be up at this hour."

"What's _your _excuse?" Puss countered. Gon turned away from the younger feline and smiled softly.

"Same as yours, I suppose."

Puss made his way towards the table, the firelight from the sconces casting large shadows on the walls and shelves. "That must be quite a good read," he stated as he hopped up onto the empty chair across from Gon. The elder cat groaned softly and shut the book.

"I'm just trying to understand is all."

"Understand what?"

"This. Everything that's happening. I've been trying to understand it for years," Gon replied irritably as he shoved the book towards Puss. The tabby furrowed his brows as he cracked the book open. After glancing over a few words, he realized it wasn't a story book but rather a log of events.

"I've logged every one of their attacks. I've written everything down in vivid detail: their style, their exact date and time of attack, everything, and I've been studying it all for years. The only thing that has ever made me stop and think is Erog himself. He has always held back."

"Sounds like your typical coward," Puss replied casually as he flipped through the pages.

"But that's just it. What does he have to be afraid of? He's at the advantage. He could have taken us out from the beginning without even breaking a sweat. Why have a bunch of cronies do his dirty work for him, and _fail _at it? What sort of game is he playing? What is he hoping to gain from it? I just…it floors me."

"Just how many men do you have prepared to fight?" Puss asked.

"Sixty," Gon said with a sigh. "We had more, but out numbers dwindled by two dozen or so."

"And…the king cannot send for reinforcements? Surely there are others who would come to his aid?"

"Of course. I suggested it, but I'm nothing more than an advisor. He refuses to put more lives at risk."

"But if may be necessary if it means saving the kingdom."

"I understand that. I can't say for certain if _he _understands it, but he just can't bear the thought of calling more men to their deaths. He also refuses to sit on the sidelines while his men fight for him. He prefers to be out on the battle field, sword drawn and prepared to lay his life down for his kingdom."

"Admirable," Puss complemented.

"No doubt. But this worries me greatly. Erog has never _announced _his attacks. What sort of opponent tells their enemy when they are going to attack them? I just fear the casualties may be far greater than what we've seen. I have no doubt that that Erog will be giving his all in this fight."

"I wish I had a more uplifting answer for you, señor."

The gray cat smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, you've done enough, and you _continue _to do enough."

"Don't give me all the credit just yet," Puss laughed. "I could actually prove to be useless in battle."

"Not likely," Gon disagreed as he slid off his chair, his back paws hitting the floor with a soft thud. He made his way over to one of the large, fifteen foot tall bookshelf that stood mounted against the wall. He climbed a few rungs of the ladder and managed to find the book he wanted with very little searching. He kept the book tucked safely under his arm as he made his way back over to the table, where Puss sat, perplexed.

Back in his chair, Gon held the book up. It was showing its age, but the words, "Puss In Boots" were still clearly legible. "This book has been my inspiration since all this began," he added, nudging the book towards the tabby. "My mother read it to me when I was just a kitten. I could recite every word of it in my sleep, I'm sure. It reassured me that even the small could overcome anything. It gave me confidence in myself."

Puss looked down. "I am not the cat in that book. I am only his descendant."

"It shows," Gon replied with a smile.

"But I'm nothing more than an imitation. I know I'll have to work twice as hard to even be half the legend Pedro was."

"Why do you insist on selling yourself short? I know strength and honor when I see it."

Puss smiled in spite of his doubts. He ran a paw along the spine of the book, pulling it towards him with the other. He flipped through the worn, musky pages with a swelling admiration for his ancestry. He came upon an artist's rendition of his third great grandfather, poised with his rapier in paw. His golden eyes shone with an intensity that he knew was no exaggeration on the artist's part. To think this legend's blood coursed through his veins. He supposed tomorrow would be the ultimate test, a test of just how worthy he was to walk in this cat's boots.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Wow, I'm a pretty terrible person, aren't I? I swear, I didn't think an update would take this long. And I don't have any excuse for why I didn't update. For a while, I sort of drifted away from the fandom and lost interest. I honestly thought I would have updated months ago, but I just never got around to working up the inspiration to finish this chapter.

It was really the release of the new movie that sort of inspired me to get back to work. I noticed that traffic increased for this story the day after the movie came out. Since its release, I've gotten more faves, alerts and reviews. And I finally got around to seeing the movie yesterday, and yes, it was amazing. I did write a short review for in my LJ...which mostly consisted of me gushing over seeing him as a kitten. Naturally, I couldn't help myself from comparing and contrasting between my story and the movie the whole time I was watching it. So…since canon has totally killed this story dead now, I guess one way to look at it is an alternative to the movie. Maybe some people might like this one instead if they weren't too fond of the canon story? Or perhaps there may be certain aspects to this story that some people might prefer over the movie. Either way you slice it, I don't want to let the movie completely leave this story in the dust. I don't know WHEN the next chapter will come, but I would love to complete this story if I can.

Regarding Erog…I was really struggling to come up with a name for him. Trust me, it's nothing creative. All I did was take the word 'ogre' and rearrange the letters. I are clever!1! DERP 9_6

And for those that are wondering, his name is pronounced E-rogue.


End file.
